


Carefree

by JRanger_Raven



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Lots of Stuff, Multi, i like cursing stop judging, probable slash in the future, warnings for cursing, will add tags as i add more stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6318454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRanger_Raven/pseuds/JRanger_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story for multiple short RA stories I've written off requests people gave me on Tumblr or this website and then some that I came up with. There's stuff varying from romance to action, AUs, all kinds of genres/pairings. Request more by PMing me or going to my Tumblr page /blog/chivalrous-psycho (T for some cursing)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Carefree

**Author's Note:**

> This Story (so you can decide whether or not you want to spend time reading it; I'll do this for every chapter): Bullying AU with Will and Horace (lots of Hill bromance)

Horace always acted like it didn't hurt him at all, but Will knew he was lying. Will always knew when Horace was covering something up just for Will's sake, just so Will wouldn't get angry. It was sweet, but in the end it only made Will frustrated.

Will saw Horace, almost every day, with a black eye, or a bruise somewhere visible on his body. This day was no different. Will met his friend in the locker room after Horace stayed a little late for football practice. Will had club activities that same day, so they usually hung out after they were done and walked home together.

"You've got to stop them," Will said. He was leaning up against one wall, not too far away from where Horace was putting his clothes in his locker.

Horace shook his head. "It's fine, really," he replied. Will glanced back down at the large bruise on his arm that said otherwise. "I've gotten worse just playing the sport."

"Yeah, but it's not just about the pain," Will said. He leaned off the wall and walked towards Horace, hoping that by getting serious he could encourage him into doing something about the seniors that were beating him up. "It's the fact they're targeting you, and they're going to get away with it."

Horace closed, almost slammed his locker door shut. His voice was calm, but it wasn't really reflecting how frustrated he was. Most of that frustration wasn't coming from his daily arguments with Will about this situation; it was from Horace being angry at himself for not doing anything. He tried his hardest not to take it out on anybody who didn't deserve it. The people who did deserve it… well, that's why he was angry.

"We both know that whenever the victim tries to fight against their bully," he said, "the victim always gets in trouble. Especially in this case… The teachers won't mind suspending me over the three best players on the team."

"Who cares?" Will asked. Horace started walking away from him, to change out of his uniform, but Will put his hand on his shoulder and stopped him. "You'll be suspended, and when you come back, they won't bother you again."

Horace sighed, and he turned around, at the same time brushing his friend's hand gently off his shoulder. "I'm not strong enough to win," he said. "If I fight against them, I'll lose, I'll get suspended, and they'll bully me even worse. I'm going to change, now, so just drop it." He walked away before Will could get another word out.

Will was seriously thinking about seeking out these bullies himself. If they hurt Horace one more time, Will swore to himself, he was going to do something about it. He might not be that strong, but when it came to Horace… Will had a feeling it was somewhat like the burst of strength mothers got when their babies were in danger. It would come to him in the moment.

But he still didn't bring the subject up in front of Horace again, when Horace was done changing. He dropped it. Horace was already sensitive about it, so for the time being, Will pretended like he wasn't bothered at all. If Horace knew Will was planning on taking care of it himself, he'd flip.

The school was like a ghost town. Their voices echoed around the halls like something out of a horror film. It was strange being in the school after school hours, but it was only scary if you were alone. Will and Horace didn't pay attention to it anymore. If anything, they liked it. It always felt so carefree, like they could run around the school and do anything they wanted because no teachers were around to tell them what to do and what not to do. No bullies to frighten Horace into doing anything he didn't want to do. They half expected Simple Minds to start playing out of nowhere.

That was, until Will and Horace turned a corner and saw the three people they had purposely been avoiding.

Alda, Bryn and Jerome didn't look as surprised to see Horace as Horace Will were to see them. Maybe they'd done this on purpose. If so, that was stalking, and that was a whole new level of bullying.

"Oh, Horace," Alda greeted with a casual smile. Will saw it as a smirk. "Hey, dude."

Horace opened his mouth to say something, but Will grabbed his arm and tried to leave the scene before they got too involved. Now wasn't the time for a fight.

"Hey, where're you going?" Jerome asked, and the trio started to follow them.

"Leave me alone," Horace muttered. He was walking as fast as Will, now, but Will still didn't take his hand off him.

"That's kinda mean of you," one of them said, Will thought it was Alda again.

One of them grabbed Horace's other shoulder, the one opposite to Will, and Horace weakly tried to shrug them off. He failed. Their grip was too tight. "We just wanna hang out," Jerome said. "Introduce us to your friend."

That was it. 'We just wanna hang out', said the guys who punched and kicked Horace till he bled and manipulated him into taking it. Will felt that fire, the fire he'd been waiting to spread inside him. Suddenly he was letting go of Horace's arm, and tearing Bryn's hand off of Horace.

"My name is Will Treaty," he hissed through clenched teeth. "And if one of you touches Horace again, I'll kick your asses."

Of course, the trio snickered. "Oh really?" Bryn asked, taunting. Will could feel Horace trying to get a word in, to tell Will they should just cut their losses and leave, but Will wasn't having it. This was as far as he was going to let this go.

"How do you think you're gonna do that?" Alda asked. He crossed his muscular arms across his chest. "I've seen kittens scarier than you."

Will's fists were tightening by his side, but he told himself to be as calm and confident as possible. He thought better, and he would probably fight better that way. Granted, Will hadn't been in a fight since he was in Elementary school, and that was barely a fight. This was highschool, and these guys were football players.

"Will, please," Horace said behind him. "Let's just stop this. Go home."

"No, I'm not going anywhere until these guys take you seriously." Will stepped closer to Alda, the ringleader; a bad move.

Alda smiled at the corner of his mouth. They stared at each other for moments on end, waiting for the other to make a move. Alda already had his move, and was just waiting for the right moment. He knew Will was serious, but he thought there was no way he was going to win.

The first punch came out of the blue, an uppercut to Will's chin. Behind him, Horace gasped, and readied himself to catch Will if he fell. Through some kind of miracle, Will stayed standing. His head was ringing and he couldn't hear a thing. Direction was lost of him; he could've been falling, and he would've had no idea. He was clearly stumbling. Blood was running down Will's chin, but he couldn't feel it.

"Dumbass," Alda sneered.

Horace could see Will had at least a concussion, but Will didn't care. He charged forward, swinging at Alda's head. Alda just leaned back, barely out of his reach, and swept his legs out from under him. Will's balance was so off, he fell like a sack of bricks.

Will grunted, trying to stand up, but Alda put his foot down on his arm and held him in place. "God, what an idiot," Jerome said, rolling his eyes. "Kick our asses my… ass," he finished, lamely. Alda paid him a quick glance back out of pity, but nobody said anything about it.

"Keep your damn hands off of him."

The three football players looked back at Will, ready to retort with something about how he couldn't do anything at this point, but they realized when they saw Will's expression that he wasn't the one who talked. Will was just as confused and surprised as they were. Their second choice was Horace, and they were right.

On Horace's face was a look they'd never seen before.

His fists were clenched so tight they could see the veins on his forearms, and the lights in his eyes were flaring. It didn't look like Horace, or, at least, not the Horace they knew. He had the stare of somebody ready to kill.

"Did you not hear me, assholes? Take your foot off him now!" Horace yelled. Alda didn't know what to do except step off of Will. He didn't lose his confidence.

"Oh, wow, now that your boyfriend's the one getting hurt you're gonna stop acting so pathetic?" Bryn asked.

"What's pathetic is you." Horace took one stride forward, tightening his arm to drive his fist into Alda's cheek. Even though anybody else would've seen it coming from a mile away, Alda, Jerome and Bryn still doubted Horace would lift a finger against them. The next thing they knew, he was knocking the teeth out of their ringleader.

Horace's next punch was to Alda's stomach. The quarterback stumbled and held the spot where Horace had hit him, trying to get his breath back. He'd never felt that much power before, even on the field. Horace couldn't have been as strong as that punch felt. It was like he was channeling power from somewhere else inside of him, not his muscles.

His fists were smoking by his sides like guns. Horace stared with the look of a predator to Jerome, and Bryn, and waited for them to attack him while their leader caught his breath. Neither of them budged.

Finally, Jerome stepped forward, but he was already intimidated and had the feeling he was going to lose. He was hesitant. It wasn't hard for Horace to dodge his punch, and then hit him on the right side of his face. Jerome stumbled to the wall.

Bryn knew it was smart to get out of there, and he was the first person to run the other way, followed by Jerome. Alda stayed for half a second, glaring at Horace.

Horace's glare hadn't lost its power yet. "Run, and don't so much as look at us again," he spat.

Alda, feeling embarrassed and powerless to do anything about his anger, turned and ran as fast as he could to where his friends had gone. Horace watched until they had disappeared around the corner. He wished he could never see them again.

When he bent down on one knee to see how Will was doing, all the fury had left his eyes. All that was left was concern. "Will, are you okay?" he asked. He turned his head to get a better look at where Alda had hit him. "You've probably got a concussion from that punch- we've got to get you to a doctor or something."

Will wasn't thinking about that. He was grinning, admiring Horace in a light he'd never seen him in before. "H-Horace…" he chuckled, "that was incredible."

"What's incredible is how you manage to ignore how badly you're bleeding. Here, stand up, I'm getting you to a hospital." He slowly got to his feet, first wrapping Will's arm around his shoulders and taking more than the majority of Will's weight. He was definitely strong enough.

"See?" Will said, as Horace carried him out of the school. The sky was still light, but it was getting closer and closer to dusk. It must've been about 5:30 by then. The streets and the school were empty, like everything they'd seen back there was a dream. "You were strong enough to beat them."

"Only now," Horace replied. He shifted Will's weight a little when he was slipping, and they had to walk down the stairs. "Couldn't have done it if it wasn't you." He was brushing it off like it was nothing, which was stupid. It's exactly what he did when Alda was bullying him, except now he was being too modest.

"Thank you," Will whispered. It was kind of an embarrassing thing to say, but just what Horace needed to be less embarrassed himself.

Horace looked over at Will, and their eyes met. "Thank you," Horace said. They smiled.

Will noticed, it had been a long time since Horace looked that carefree.


	2. 2 Verses 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story: Somebody threatens Horace during one of the rare times he's unable to defend himself, but luckily Will's there and...

"How's your arm doing?" Will asked, breaking the silence that had stretched on for minutes between them.

Horace shrugged and glanced down at his arm in the sling. "It's okay," he said. "At least this road isn't too bumpy, and it doesn't hurt if I don't touch it."

"There's a town coming up a few miles ahead. We can stop there for the night and get up early tomorrow."

Will and Horace's destination wasn't too far ahead. Will knew they could reach it in the next day or two, even behind schedule. Like the knight said, if Kicker moved too fast or they traveled on a rough shortcut, it would jerk his arm around too much and hurt him. It only cost them half a day, at the most to go the normal route. Horace protested "no, it's fine, let's just get to Norgate as soon as possible; I'll deal" but Will couldn't agree.

"Great," Horace said with a smile. "If they ask, make sure to tell them the story, okay?"

Will rolled his eyes. Horace had invented a fake explanation for why his arm was broken. First he planned to say that he punched somebody so hard he broke his arm, but Will told him that was stupid so Horace thought of something better. The story was, a couple of assassins tried to launch a surprise attack on the two while they slept. One out of the five shot Will's arm before he could get to his arrows, so Horace stepped in front of him and fought the five men all by himself.

He was strong enough to defeat all of them. The last man disarmed Horace, but then Horace punched him in the face when he saw on open target. (For the record, Will said that was also stupid but Horace wouldn't listen.) It took him by surprise and knocked the man's sword from his hand. With both their weapons gone, Horace and the assassin fought hand-to-hand. Horace won, but broke his arm in the fight. Weird how everything was so detailed and thought out, up until the actual breaking of the arm, which ended up being unconvincingly vague.

Well, that was the story, anyway. What really happened was much different: during one of their midday breaks Horace thought he heard something stirring around them, hidden in the bushes. Naturally he went to go check it out.

Everything seemed normal, but Horace was still on edge. It wasn't the threat of danger that put Horace on edge so much as it was his physical and mental tension at the moment, but he got very anxious. He turned around, slowly, and saw an animal behind him that hadn't been there before. His heart lurched in his chest. He almost screamed, but it came out a small squeak. It didn't matter that that animal who'd startled him to the point of a small heart attack was just a bunny.

Horace tipped off balance and fell, backwards… down the steep slope of the hill behind him. Somewhere along the way he hit a big rock and it broke his arm, or the impact of the landing when he finally stopped rolling broke it. Either way, when he got to the bottom, Horace had a broken arm.

Somehow he managed to get up the hill by himself without alerting Will about anything. He only got around to mentioning it to Will a few minutes later, after Will finished feeding Tug and Kicker… to which Will yelled, "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME SOONER YOU HAD A BROKEN ARM?!" Horace honestly didn't have an answer.

"Fine," Will sighed, in response to Horace's question. "I won't tell them a bunny broke your arm…" He grinned.

Horace looked away, growing red in the cheeks. "Shut up," he said. "It could've been an assassin or something. Someone out to get us."

"Thank God it wasn't. You would've still fallen if it was."

They got to the town as the sun was going down, and checked into the best looking inn they saw. It wasn't the best place ever, but it didn't look infected with every disease on the planet, so it'd have to do.

Horace immediately went down to the restaurant to get some dinner, and Will joined him after putting up his weapons in the room. He took a small combat knife with him down to eat, but nothing too obvious.

One of the catches of this mission was that Will and Horace were going undercover. Therefore, Will had not brought his ranger cloak, Horace wasn't carrying anything on him that could be easily traced back to the king, and neither had brought any unusual weapons. They invented fake names and backstories on the way up to make themselves believable. Will doubted they'd have to use them, though.

Will sat down in a chair next to Horace, just as the waitress was taking his drink order. Will still didn't want to drink any alcohol, so he ordered water and Horace got a glass of ale.

Things were normal for a time… Will was facing the door, to watch it in case somebody familiar or suspicious walked in. It was common procedure for a ranger, and it paid off. Minutes after they got their drinks, two, at least six foot tall figures stepped in the room and caught Will's attention.

Just looking at them, he knew they were trouble. They had that aura, and Will had that flawless ranger intuition that made him dangerous even without his bow.

Horace noticed his friend's suspicion raised and followed his eyes to where the two new arrivals were. "Don't stare too long," Will muttered, his words barely audible. If both of them were looking, then the two men would definitely notice their table.

"Do you know them?" Horace asked.

"No, but I know they're trouble."

Horace snorted. "You rangers," he said, "you're like hunting dogs."

"It helps."

Will never fully took his eyes off them, but the men never made a move. They just sat down and ordered their drinks like everyone else. At one point they did give Will a quick glance when they felt him staring, but Will immediately pretended like he was looking at someone else and then laid low.

He and Horace had a good, hearty dinner, perfect after a day of traveling. Will was ready to head up to their room to sleep, but Horace insisted on feeding Kicker a spare apple from dinner first. The knight spoiled his horse way too much… but Will used to, too. They walked back to the stables.

"Theeere you go, boy," Horace cooed, petting his horse on the side of his head as he devoured the snack.

Will leaned up against the stable wall with his arms crossed. He smiled, looking at Horace. He was too kind sometimes. Kicker nuzzled Horace's broken arm with his nose, and Horace grunted. "Ow, what'd you do that for?" he asked. Kicker looked at him, confused.

Will faintly heard the restaurant door opening, but he didn't pay attention to it. He was too preoccupied laughing at Horace and his horse out to get him. Fortunately he was alert enough to spot, out of the corner of his eye, a large shadow approaching the stables. His grin vanished. Then the shadows split into two.

Will didn't make any big moves yet… If he acted too hostile before they even did anything, they'd know something was up. Normal people didn't threaten somebody that tall, or that dangerous-looking, especially when there were two of them. If they didn't notice that, then they'd assume he was bluffing and attack him. Then Will would have to beat them, and they'd definitely suspect him, and… everything would go bad. Will had to keep his identity a secret. Still, he kept on his feet and reminded himself of where his knife was on his body.

"Oi, horse boy," one of them said.

Horace turned only his head around and looked at them. It took him barely a second to recognize them as the two men inside. Even so, he hid his suspicion like a pro and greeted them with a light, friendly tone. "Oh, hello," he said, "can I help you with something?"

"I'd imagine you could." The two men stepped into the stables, and Will flattened his body against the wall shrouded in darkness. He wished he had his ranger cloak. If he kept still, though, he could stay out of sight without his cloak. He was wearing dark clothes for a reason.

The other man, the one on the right who hadn't spoken yet, reached into his belt and drew out a well-sized knife. "Put up your hands, and give us your money," he demanded.

Horace's eyes widened just a fraction of a centimeter. Like he was scared of two ordinary street robbers. Nevertheless, Horace was smart and knew that if he didn't do something they would attack. He put his good arm up.

Will wasn't worried; Horace had beaten guys bigger, taller, and tougher, with bigger knives. But they realized at the same time that Horace's right arm was unusable. Will almost gasped out loud.

It wasn't such a big deal before because what they were going to do on their mission, hopefully, wouldn't involve a lot of fighting. They hadn't expected this. It was up to Will if these men decided to get violent.

"Hey, easy," Horace said. He was a little more scared now but it didn't show. "I-I don't have anything."

"What'd you pay for dinner with, then?" the right man spat.

Horace couldn't resist. "Money," he answered, smirking. "Money I don't have anymore. You see, I paid with it."

The men sneered. "Don't be smart," the left one, the slightly smaller one, snapped. "Reach into your pockets and give us all you have!" The right man stepped forward and jabbed his knife farther out, closer to Horace's throat.

They didn't even hear Will sneak up behind them. He pressed the blade of his knife to the right man's throat, almost but not quite drawing blood. "Didn't you hear him?" the ranger growled into his ear. "He doesn't have any."

Both thieves were startled by Will's sudden appearance. "Where'd you come from?!" the left one gasped. He fumbled around to pick out his own knife and hold it threateningly at Will.

"You guys didn't see me when you walked in," Will said. "Now put the knives away. If you're nice, I'll be nice too."

Although it was a little off-putting that Will just appeared out of nowhere, the men were smart enough to realize that it was two against one. They gave each other matching glances, and knew the other was thinking the same thing. While Will was waiting for an answer, the right one, the taller one he had his knife against threw an elbow back into Will's stomach. Will grunted, and the man took that chance to slip out of his choke.

"Put up your hands," the thief ordered. "Give us your money."

"I don't think so." If Will was right, then these men were impulsive and impatient, like most criminals were. He waited for them to attack first.

Then, out of nowhere, Horace ran up beside Will and tightened his good hand into a fist. "Two against two," he said.

Will looked at Horace like he was mad. "What?" he asked. "No, your arm is broken. Broken."

"I have two arms."

"It's your right arm! Get over there!" Will exclaimed, meaning over to Kicker. If Horace got involved with this, he would most surely not come out of it without a scratch. Will would die before he let Horace do that. "I can take care of them by myself!" he said.

"Like hell!" The taller right man yelled it, then launched forward with an attack to Will's throat. He was going right for the kill. What ruthless thieves they are, Will thought.

Even when his guard was lowered because of Horace, Will was still ready. He pushed Horace to the right and leaned left, far enough to avoid the knife.

He was still not going to kill them. Will had the perfect opening, and the perfect opportunity to stab the man in the stomach and let him bleed out, or let his friend run to get a doctor, but instead he butted him with the hilt of the sword and knocked the breath out of him. Then the elbow of that same arm came up and hit him in the chin. The man stumbled away, dropping down to one knee, but clearly alive when he could've been dead. Lucky for him, Will only killed in desperation.

But Will didn't get a second of rest. The other thief was attacking as soon as his partner got hit the first time, with a different strategy. He moved around Will, almost avoiding him, over to Horace to take him hostage. Or kill him. Either or. Despite how calm he was, Will's heart jerked in his chest, just enough to trigger his emotions. He willed himself to do something, but by the time he saw what was happening it was too late.

Horace put up his fists to hit him, but his only strike came from one hand and couldn't be followed by another. Meaning, he couldn't fake him out, and he couldn't throw combinations.

The thief almost didn't avoid it. He angled it away, with the bottom palm of his hand, but it was so off-target the punch slid off his hand at the last moment. Luckily for him, it slid off where his head wasn't.

Once he (badly) blocked it, he swung around behind Horace and held him in a choke. Horace's arm was bound too so he couldn't hit him if he tried. The knife was shaking threateningly towards the skin of his throat, and Will got the impression he wasn't bluffing.

Will usually tried to be as emotionless as possible when he fought, because sometimes feelings got in the way of his better judgement. Halt had taught him that.

But rage boiled inside him when he saw that blade next to Horace's neck so much he wanted to scream. He clutched his knife tightly in his hand, so hard his knuckles turned white, but he stopped himself before making any sudden moves. There was no way he could reach him before the thief could kill Horace.

Meanwhile, the hurt man from before was standing up, blood running from his mouth and all. Will had one knife. Horace was being held hostage. Two against one, now. He felt trapped.

The taller man, farthest away from Horace, snickered. "Not so cocky now, huh?"

But Will had a plan.

He looked back and forth, from one man to another, only moving his eyes. His body stayed completely still, but loose. He was stiff, but agile. We're getting out of this alive, he told himself.

"Try me," Will said.

Don't mind if I do, the right man said, smirking. He came right at Will, gripping his knife confidently in one hand, running at full power.

It was too fast for him to see. Will looked at Horace and, without hesitation, threw his knife at his head. His arm and the weapon looked like a blur when they moved. Will threw his knife before the man reached him, and then turned around in just enough time to see the thief's body, analyze it, and place his body in the perfect position to counter.

The thief's arms were already moving and he couldn't change his attack by the time Will had thought of exactly how to beat him. Will didn't stop his arm, but redirected it to the side of his body, out of the way, and left himself enough space to counter. The right man was smart this time, and had his other arm guarding his body instead of just down at his side. It didn't matter, though, because Will was facing his back and not the open side.

He threw a fast knife hand strike to the back of his neck (to substitute for his own knife…), which may have been a little harsh, but dammit he wasn't going to play nice anymore. He didn't give guys like these second chances.

It all came so naturally to him. His muscles moved in perfect clockwork, hips opening in the opposite way to hit the man's stomach and take him completely off balance. He was a tornado, a whirlwind. As soon as he swept the man's foot out behind him, as soon as he threw another hit to his stomach, he hopped on that same leg, with perfect, unwavering balance and lifted his other. The man was too close for him to throw a full kick, but he hit him with a just as powerful knee right to the gut. He could've put a hole right through him. The thief hit the ground like he was falling from the top of the building.

Will felt like he overreacted, but it didn't matter now. He was never going to see him again.

"Two against one," Will muttered. "Sure."

He looked over his shoulder at Horace. The man behind Horace was already slumped down against the wall, dead or dying as they spoke. Will's knife had gone straight through his forehead.

Then the ranger's emotions overtook him. He rushed over to his obviously frightened friend. "Horace!" he gasped, putting his hands on either sides of the knight's arms. "Are you okay?"

Horace nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine…" He was talking, but his mind was somewhere else. "Will… just, whoa."

"I didn't plan to kill them," Will said. "But when you're in a situation like that, two to one…"

"No, I get it. I think you did the right thing." Horace glanced from body to body. The taller man, who attacked Will last was out cold. "You think he'll come get revenge?" he asked. Smart question.

"No," Will replied, shaking his head. "It's dark enough in here that they couldn't have seen my face too well. Plus, I doubt they'll ever want to come near me again…"

Horace nodded again and smiled. "Yeah, they know not to mess with us."

Will rolled his eyes. On his way out of the stables he called back to his friend, "Us? You were their hostage."

"I tried to help!" Horace ran after him. "I have a broken arm!"

"Which you got from a bunny."

"I told you to shut up about that!" Will laughed.

They headed back to their room, and slept like the dead that night. Will couldn't help but be a little bit paranoid, and stayed up an extra hour or two just in case anybody wanted to take another shot at them.

But nobody came. Will smiled. He had protected both of him.


	3. Official Ranger Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story: Alyss and Will visit the Ward where they once grew up

"Is that him?" was the question of the day at the orphanage. Baron Arald got the question over and over and over again that morning, sometimes by the same person twice; word spread quickly through the Ward kids. Every time he laughed, and answered, "Yes, that's him." And the kids gasped. It was adorable.

Will and Alyss saw nearly a dozen pairs of eyes locked on them when they walked into the orphanage, but it felt more like a middle. Will shook hands with Baron Arald, who then dropped the formal gesture and clapped him on the back laughing. The kids couldn't tell what they were saying, but they could guess from the gestures what was going on. Alyss and Arald hugged, being just as friendly with each other.

"I can't believe it," one of the kids whispered. "Why would he be here?"

"Ranger business," his sister replied. "It's gotta be."

"Kalan, wouldn't the Baron have said something if he knew Ranger Treaty was coming?"

Seb and his sister, Sabrina, looked over to their friend Kalan, who had stuck his head out farthest from their hiding space behind the door. Kalan didn't look back; he was still still studying the conversation between the three adults, yards away from them.

Kalan was a slightly darker skinned, slightly taller, slightly older boy than the twins Seb and Sabrina. He was also quite a bit more serious, and didn't mind being a sort of role model for the twins. He was only two years older, but two years was a big difference for them when they were that young.

"I think he would've," he answered Seb. "Also, why would Ranger Treaty want to bother visiting an orphanage if not for some Ranger thing?"

"What if one of us is working for the bad guy?" Seb gasped.

"I doubt it. The oldest kid here is me, and I'm eleven. Why would bad people hire somebody that young?"

"What if it's me?!"

Seb was being completely irrational, but Sabrina couldn't miss an opportunity when it was so temptingly laid in front of her. "It's probably you," she replied. Seb's eyes widened.

"Don't fall for it, Seb," Kalan said, still refusing to take his eyes off Will and Alyss. They were done greeting the Baron, now talking to the younger kids in the main room. There was an even lesser chance of them being there for business. Everything was way too… casual.

Not to mention, why would both Alyss and Will be there if it were for Ranger business? Alyss had her own stuff to do. Unless they were here together because they were on a mission together, which had happened before…

This was just so unusual, Kalan couldn't help but obsess over it. He was smart for an eleven-year-old, too, so he thought he could figure it out from the context clues.

"You'd know if you were working for the enemy," answered Kalan. He was only half paying attention to Sabrina and Seb's conversation.

"Maybe not," Seb replied. "Maybe I was brainwashed like the Kalkara."

"The Kalkara are dead. You'll be fine," Kalan muttered. He wished he would stop talking.

"What's Ranger Treaty doing now?" Sabrina asked. She moved to the side of Kalan, to get a better view herself. Seb tried to squeeze in between them two like an awkward third wheel.

"He has Alec in his lap…" Kalan said, "and he's bouncing him on his knee." Definitely not here for a mission, Kalan thought.

Alec was the second youngest of the Ward kids, only having learned to crawl a day or two before. The youngest was too young to crawl, and was taking a nap at the time in another room. Alec was also very outgoing, and crawled up to Will as soon as he saw him. Will absolutely adored babies. The ranger picked him up, sat down in a chair, and bounced him on his leg. Alec laughed every second of it.

Beside his chair, Alyss watched and rolled her eyes. "The legendary Will Treaty, everybody," she introduced sarcastically, to no one in particular.

Will was too giddy to say something smart back. Besides, he knew Alyss was being a hypocrite. As she teased him, she was carrying a six year old girl named Jaden on her hip, who was trying to chew on and play with Alyss's hair and Alyss wasn't doing anything to stop it. "He's so cuute," Will cooed. Alec reached up with his chubby hands and took ahold of Will's oakleaf necklace.

"He's going to eat your necklace," Alyss warned him.

"Let him. He can do what he wants." Sure enough, Alec put the pendant in his mouth and gnawed on it. Will kept swaying him and singing to him.

Alyss beamed down at her husband. He would be a perfect father.

Then something else caught her eye. There were three kids she hadn't seen yet, out of the six that lived in the orphanage, hiding behind a door down the hall. As soon as they saw her staring, the two younger kids gasped and retreated back into the room. The older one stayed.

Alyss decided to bring them into the fun. She walked over, still carrying Jaden, and approached Kalan with a smile on her face. Kalan looked up at her almost defensively, and planted his feet in the ground.

"Why're you hiding?" she asked, kindly.

"Why're you here?" replied the boy.

That took Alyss completely off-guard. She hadn't expected him to be so hostile. The other two kids, who were so similar in their facial features that they could've been- and probably were- twins, started to show themselves again behind him. "We're just paying a little visit," Alyss said. "My husband and I used to be Ward kids too, you know."

"Ms. Mainwaring, that's… Will Treaty, right?" the younger girl asked. She nodded towards Will.

"It is." Alyss chuckled. Will sure was a legend around here. Everybody knew him.

"Why's he wasting his time coming here?" Kalan asked.

Alyss frowned, for the first time since she got there. Wasting time? Was that how he saw it? "Why would this be a waste of time?" The boy was silent. "What're your names?" she asked, adjusting Jaden further up on her hip. The girl was falling asleep in her arms and losing her grip.

"I'm Sabrina, and this is Seb and Kalan," the girl introduced. Alyss looked at each one of them carefully, matching their names with their faces. She nodded.

"Are you two twins?" she asked Seb and Sabrina.

Sabrina nodded. "I'm older, though."

Seb glared at her. "No you're not!" he exclaimed. "We don't even know our parents, how could you know that?!"

His sister grinned. "I just know. I look older than you!"

The twins got into a more involved, verbal fight over who was older despite having no information to back either of their claims up. They looked exactly the same age.

"Come on out here," Alyss said, to Kalan. "Don't be shy."

"We're not shy," the boy countered. He sounded offended.

"Then prove it."

Times like these were exactly why Alyss and Will thought it was a good idea to visit the Ward kids. They remembered all too well what it felt like to not have a mother or a father. Even though Ward kids almost always amounted to something because of how they got apprenticed at the certain age, it was hard to believe in it. Especially for someone like Will, who was bullied. Who knew how many kids there were going through the same thing?

Alyss wanted these kids to have some sense of hope; of a future; of a mother or father figure, more than just Baron Arald. She remembered how Pauline was like a mother to her.

It was possible.

Kalan didn't reply, at first; he looked away as if he were debating what to do in his head. Finally, he walked out into the open and convinced Sabrina and Seb to follow him.

"I can't wait to meet Ranger Will," Seb gushed. "I wonder if he's as cool as he sounds in the stories!"

"I know!" Sabrina said. For all the times she teased him and outsmarted him, she was just as excited as he was, and totally onboard with his enthusiasm. "He doesn't even sound real!"

But, when they finally faced the legendary Will Treaty, they found him bouncing a giggling baby on his knee and singing, "Who's the best ba-by ever, ever? It's Alec, Alec!"

Sabrina and Seb's grins dropped into confused frowns. "Hello, Ranger Will," Kalan greeted, his tone as solid as a brick wall.

"Hello," Will replied in a sing-song voice. "How're you kids today?"

"We're okay… Don't you have some important Ranger stuff to take care of? Like, saving the country, maybe?" Kalan asked.

Will didn't respond. He just kept grinning and admiring Alec. His smile was so high it reached his eyes, and for a few moments he was off in another world until he snapped back to reality and looked back up at Kalan. "Huh?" he said.

Alyss rolled her eyes. What a great father he was going to make someday.


	4. Knew I Could Trust You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horace and Will have been trying to come out to their friends for a month, but they haven't gotten up the courage yet. And, as they finally decide they're going to tell them they're dating...

What were they so afraid of, anyway?

They knew for a fact that all their friends would be more than accepting of them. Maybe they already knew.

What they were afraid of was how the people outside of their friend circle would treat them. For example, being on the football team, Horace was supposed to be a “manly man”, which meant chasing after cheerleaders and volleyball girls, and being the toughest, most heterosexual man he could, not crushing on his own best friend who also happened to be a boy. There was no way his teammates were going to be okay with it.

But it didn’t discourage Horace one bit from falling in love with Will.

And, through some miracle, Will felt the same way. After accidentally putting himself into an awkward situation, Will was forced to confess he liked his best friend of five years, without a clue that Horace had been thinking the same thing since the beginning of their freshman year.

It had been a month after they started dating, so their relationship was only getting started. They hadn’t yet said “I love you”; hell, they hadn’t even come out. Not even to Jenny, George and Alyss, otherwise known as The Squad. It was the way the other people in the school would treat them that frightened them. So they kept putting it off.

Will and Horace agreed, one night up texting at one in the morning (like usual) that they would come out to their close friends first before the entire school. That included The Squad, an older friend of Will’s, Halt, who was in college, and Will’s other friend Gilan, in his junior year of highschool. Those people, they knew they could trust and rely on to keep their secret until Will and Horace got the courage to tell the school. Aka, when the sun burned out, probably.

But ever since they agreed on that, they’d never set a date to actually tell them.

Which could be awkward at times.

The cafeteria was loud, so The Squad usually are in Will and Horace’s fourth period class, which was English. The teacher didn't mind. He was off eating lunch somewhere else; they were good enough students that he could trust them.

“He forgot to remind us about the test tomorrow,” Will said, referring to the teacher. He sat on the very edge of his desk, half sitting, half leaning; checking his phone for messages. Horace was in the desk next to him, getting out his lunch and phone.

“Oh…” Horace mumbled. “I knew that.”

“Well it's his fault, anyway. Aren't teachers supposed to remind you of that stuff?” Will glanced up quickly from the screen.

“In high school we’re supposed to keep agendas. Or something,” Horace added. “But I think they should.”

“Hm. High school is still weird.” Will turned back to scrolling through various social medias, and let silence take over for a minute or two. Most of the other squad was still on the other side of the school, so it could take them a few minutes to get to the classroom. Will and Horace waited until then to eat their lunches. By now most people had cleared out of the room, and there were only about five other people still in there besides them.

So it was empty enough for Horace to bring it up.

“You know, I was thinking us and The Squad could go out this weekend,” Horace said. “Or… go to somebody’s house. Just to hang out. Maybe then, we could…” He paused, but Will knew what he was going to say. Horace finished anyway: “Tell them about us. If you’re okay with that.”

Will smiled just a little, without knowing really why. Maybe he was relieved Horace felt he was ready enough to do it that he could bring it up out of nowhere like that. Even though none of their friends were the least bit homophobic, neither Will nor Horace had even come out as gay to them before, let alone as a couple. They’d be doing both at the same time, and that was twice as difficult. Horace seemed to be ready now, or maybe he just wanted to get it over with before he never told them.

“I think we should,” Will said. “Let's go out to lunch at Jenny’s restaurant or something and tell them. At a movie it's kinda hard to talk to people.”

“Mm, true,” agreed Horace. “Let's do that, then. If they can make it.”

“Alright.”

Jenny’s parents owned a restaurant, and she frequently worked (more for fun than for money) there and helped with cooking, taking people’s orders, or managing it. So they went there often, because Jenny was a talented cook, and also because she gave them a discount if they asked nicely. Usually there were a good number of people in there, but it wasn’t too crowded that they couldn’t talk about something privately.

Just the thought of coming out to them, and the fact that now they had set a date (a vague date, at least) to do it was now making Horace start to regret saying anything. But in his heart he knew that was just because of his own paranoia, and not because it was a bad idea.

If nothing else, he could trust Will. If Will said it was going to be okay, then Horace was willing to go into anything unsure. Because if Will was so sure, then it would be okay, and Will would be there to catch him if it wasn’t.

Interrupting his thoughts, the door to the classroom opened, and the two boys looked up. Jenny and George walked in, headed straight for the spot of the desks near the front corner, where they usually stationed themselves.

“Hey hey!” Jenny greeted cheerily. “What’s happenin’?” Her trying to be “cool” by saying “what's happenin’” was completely ironic, of course.

She swung her backpack back off her shoulder, but it swung so fast she had to grab the strap to keep it from flying away from her. The sudden stop still gave the backpack power, though, and it smashed into the leg of the nearest desk.

For a moment it looked like the desk was going to fall. Horace gasped; it came out almost a yell, like he was frightened so the desk didn’t have to be.

“Jenny!” Will said. “Don't break the desk!”

“Sorry!” she exclaimed. It was hardly apologetic.

Alyss came in a minute later, and they started eating.

Luckily for them, they had the classroom almost all to themselves. Only three other people were in there, too, and they were doing work quietly in the back. The teacher usually went out to eat with the other teachers, so it was almost as if they’d privately rented their own room for lunch.

They treated it like the pivot in their day. All of them never had any classes where all of them were together, only two, or, if they were lucky, three of them. Lunch was the point on which they rotated; a checkpoint to keep them all knitted tightly together, outside of the things they did after school together.

Not too long into the period, Horace brought up the idea of the five of them going out to eat on the weekend.

They were totally on board, except…

Jenny said, “That sounds fun, but actually…” she looked from George, on one side of her, to Alyss, on her other side, with a not so much sneaky but rather excited smile, “somebody… may or may be asking Horace out to a movie this weekend.”

Alyss’s eyebrows raised. “Ooh,” she grinned, and put down the salad she’d bought from the cafeteria. “Who is it?”

“Can't tell. I may love gossip, but I don't start it. She's my friend and I said I wouldn't tell.” 

“We’re your friends too.”

“If you were my friends you wouldn't pressure me into it, would you?” Jenny asked.

Alyss rolled her eyes. “You know I'm just kidding.” She pushed Jenny, lightly on her shoulder as a playful gesture. “I wouldn't tell if I were you, either.”

“What’re you going to say?” George asked Horace.

Horace chewed on his sandwich very, very slowly, to buy himself as much time as possible. Seconds passed, and everybody still stared at him, waiting, intent on hearing his answer when he got enough courage to say anything.

Will was staring at him, too, but Horace couldn’t look back at him or it would be too obvious. Plus, Horace didn’t have to see Will’s face to know what it looked like. He was probably trying to keep his cool, but Will was so easily jealous that he wasn’t going to do a very good job of it. Horace had to choose his words carefully.

Finally he swallowed, and quietly spoke, “W-Well… I don't know who she is. I couldn't say.”

“She's really cute,” said Jenny.

“She probably is, but I just…” Horace shrugged. “I don't know if I'm… interested in dating gi- I mean, dating, at this point. I'm busy, and…” Horace realized, at that point that if he convinced them he didn't want to date anybody, it would be even weirder to them if he came out with Will. So he had to phrase it differently.

But Alyss said something before he could: “Why not? I mean, there's nothing wrong with it, but I’m curious.”

“No reason in particular. I just don't think I'd be interested in her,” Horace answered, half honestly. (There was a reason in particular, but the second half was true.) “I like to get to know someone before I go out with them. You know, be good friends for a while.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Horace could see a fleeting smile come to Will’s face.

“With most girls, I agree,” George replied. He dropped out of the conversation for now and resumed eating.

“But she's definitely going to talk to you anyway,” Jenny said. “What’re you going to say?”

“I guess I'll turn her down. I mean, I…” Horace trailed off, unsure of what to say anymore. “I don't really like…”

Jenny’s eyes widened, and she gasped. Horace’s heart stung and he worried for a second he had gotten too close to the truth that she could figure it out.

“Wait!” she said. “Do you have a crush on someone already?”

So it wasn’t what he thought she was going to say. But Horace couldn't even be relieved, because what she asked was hard to answer without screaming at her, “I’m gay and I’m dating Will”.

“No, no, I mean,” he stuttered. “Kind of- no, I mean, it’s not…” Horace pursed his lips together in frustration. Well, e was going to come out that weekend, wasn’t he? Maybe this was an easier way to than having to bring it up himself.

“Who is she?” Alyss asked. “Do we know her?”

“Is it me?” Jenny asked.

George glanced over at her and rolled his eyes. “You wish,” he said.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I-I…” Horace started, and all eyes were on him again. “You do, but it’s like… I don’t know if I can…”

Then Will stood up off the desk and leaned over to Horace. It occurred to them suddenly that Will hadn’t said one word during the entire conversation. They hadn’t seen him steaming with jealousy.

With one arm supporting him, he bent his head down, angled Horace’s head one way with his hand, and then kissed him.

It all hit them like a speeding truck. Nobody knew what to say for a straight (not-so-straight) five seconds, while Will kept kissing Horace and Horace didn’t pull away. Somewhere in the middle of the kiss, Horace accepted that they had already gone too far to go back, so he let himself kiss back and relished in how good it felt to be kissing Will in front of other people. It was like throwing his hands up in the air and saying “oh well, screw it”, but instead of being frustrated afterwards, he just felt at home.

When they finally stopped, they looked back at their friends’ reactions and got pretty much what they were expecting.

Shock. Vague confusion. But no disgust.

More time passed, and nobody moved a muscle.

Alyss was, surprisingly, the first one to burst out into laughter. That broke the ice, and the tension in the room crumbled. Jenny grinned from ear to ear, no longer shocked but instead staring at them in adoration. “Ohhh my god,” she giggled.

George’s initial reaction didn’t change one bit.

Will smiled. These were the best reactions they could’ve gotten. “So, no,” he said, “Horace won’t be getting asked out by anyone but me, because he’s mine."

Jenny was about to squeal aloud, they could see it in her eyes.

“I just…” Alyss said, sounding like she was crying with laughter, “Will, only you would just- I…”

George’s face still hadn’t changed. “Huh?” he whispered.

Horace lifted his eyes up at Will, who was already looking back at him with the same smile. “Sorry,” he said, “but it sounded like you were going to tell them, and… I hope that was okay.”

Horace chuckled. “It’s just fine," he said. "I knew I could trust you, if you thought it was going to work.” And he leaned forward to peck Will lightly on the lips, again, this time without worrying about who saw them.


	5. Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story: Lying with Alyss, Will rethinks all his feelings for her, the girl he liked, but never loved like he should've.

Laying there with her, that night, left with only his shallow feelings and a heavy heart keeping him anchored to the ground, the idea of saying all those things he should never say looked dangerously closer than ever.

 

Will could deal with it for a little while. He told himself to be happy for her. Her happiness was what he really wanted, right? He told himself not to be selfish, but, in the end, the thing he told himself not to do always won over what he knew he should. It always turned out that way. Will didn’t know why he didn’t think it would.

It was nights like these that almost forced Will to look deeper at it. At Alyss. Himself. Them. Those thoughts became more than just feelings swimming around inside him with no direction. Now they were coherent words, ideas, and arguments. It always happened whenever Will and Alyss were alone together, on nights like tonight.

There were no stars out or Will would’ve told her all about the constellations. She probably knew them by heart by now, but that didn’t discourage Will from telling her over and over again every time he got the chance. It was mostly to impress her, and whether Alyss knew that or not, she didn’t seem to mind.

His feelings for Alyss were deep. Surely they were, right? Will thought he’d had feelings for her as soon as, even before she kissed him that one day. And Will wanted to say he could still feel the touch of her lips on his, but that was a lie. He couldn’t remember it at all.

The only memory he had of that kiss was that it felt nice, and it gave him butterflies. And he that dreamt about it the night after. But not the night after that, and not the next night, either.

Will knew he had a tiny crush on her in the years after that. What was not to like? She was a kind, strong-willed girl, as tough as she was beautiful and gentle. She was his rock, in all the years they spent in the Ward, the only one who ever sat down with him and talked to him, really talked. She was the kind of comfort that lied somewhere between a sister and a best friend. Then she kissed him, and his whole perspective of her changed. She wasn’t a childhood friend anymore, she was a crush. But it was strange… Will never asked himself if he loved her.

It was just a cute crush a kid had on his best friend, nothing more. He liked her, but he never loved her. At the time, it didn’t sound like such a sad thing to think, but she deserved better.

Will had to look to the side to make sure Alyss was still awake. She was, and she turned her head back to meet his eyes from across the grass and smile at him.

Moments like these made Will want to forget they were on a mission. He let himself imagine, just for a second, that this was completely normal. And Alyss would fall asleep with him, outside, below the night sky. They'd curl up next to each other and let the time pass them by without caring to keep track.

Eventually Will always had to pull himself back into reality.

The announcement of her and Jackson’s relationship was such a shock to him, although he couldn't place why at the time. She did it in such a casual way that it was impossible for her to have known how it made Will feel. For a few seconds his heart stopped like it was paralyzed. Something that should’ve just been a mental feeling suddenly became so painful he felt it throughout his physical body, and that made it hurt ten times more. It didn't stop, and he never found out how to make it.

Jackson was an Araluen Duke’s youngest son, with a high enough status to date a Courier but not so high that it became a significant position of power for Alyss. Will respected the man, and it wasn't like Alyss picked the most boring, standard, take-home-to-your-mother kind of guy. Jackson was often impulsive and liked to be the focus of people’s attention. He was interesting. It made him a fun guy to be around, but it didn’t turn him into a jealous person. Not like Will was. It made everything so much more frustrating for Will, because he couldn’t say that Alyss made the wrong choice.

Alyss wasn’t his. She never was. The idea of her getting into a relationship with another person always sounded so far-fetched because they were just kids. Now they weren’t kids anymore. It had taken years, but Will’s crush on Alyss had become something natural. He got used to feeling jittery whenever she was around, almost turned it into a game. She deserved so much better than a game. She deserved better than a crush that only got serious when he lost her.

And she was never his to begin with.

The moon above them disappeared for a short time behind the clouds, and for a while everything was darker than before. The moon was their only light. It was the only way Will could see Alyss’s face, when he occasionally turned his eyes over to her and caught a glimpse of her. Outlined by the moon’s light, she looked too beautiful for this world. Too beautiful for anyone.

Will knew he should be happy for her. He had enough common sense to not go so far as to sabotage her and Jackson’s relationship, but he couldn’t keep himself from averting his eyes whenever they held hands or kissed each other a quick goodbye. It was a defense mechanism to protect himself, a way to keep himself from hurting so he could try to ignore the fact that he was feeling something much deeper.

“Are you alright?” Alyss whispered. Will turned his head to the side and noticed she was staring at him. The moon had emerged from the clouds by then, so they could see each other again. She said, “You look like you're really sad.”

While she spoke, she also had on the look that there were a million more things going on in her head. She was studying him. It was a good feeling, to see her looking so closely at him. Will wondered if he even deserved it.

Unlike how it’d been for the past five years, Alyss was in all his thoughts. Every flaw she had gave Will a deeper understanding of her, and he wanted to learn them all. In every role he had placed her in his life, she was beautiful: as the best friend, the crush, the sister, or the (if he fantasized about it) girlfriend. It was just that: she fit perfectly in his life, in every possible way.

At first he tried to fake it to himself. He nearly convinced himself this burning jealousy was just frustration leftover from his first semi-heartbreak (he didn’t call it heartbreak because there was never anything in between them to get over, it was all in his head). And that lasted for… about a month. Then Will had to sigh, give in, and admit to himself that now that Alyss was unattainable, he liked her more than ever. He was stuck like that now. Stuck with the selfish feeling that he should be with Alyss, even when he was the one at fault.

“Kind of.” Will was dancing so close to the edge of telling her everything, but Alyss made him want to play that game so dangerously. “I was just thinking.”

A tiny smile curved its way up her lips, spreading so easily like she was born to smile like that. It was there before he even knew it. She looked like such an angel… “Clearly,” she said.

She was not the girl he wanted just because he couldn’t have her. Will wasn’t that shallow. At least that’s what he wanted to think.

But that was fine. It didn’t matter. Either way, he could fake it for a little longer until these feelings hurt too much for his brain to accept them. If Will couldn’t be happy, then maybe Alyss could. He didn’t care if it was at his cost. He probably deserved it.

How long could he keep this up? he wondered.

Alyss turned her head back over and closed her eyes. It didn't quite look like she was going to sleep, but Will couldn't be sure.

“You should get some sleep,” he told her. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Will wanted to kiss her goodnight instead. He wanted to hold her and feel her sleeping in his arms rather than watch it and fantasize about it from a few feet away.

If Alyss broke up with Jackson, would he still feel this way, he wondered? Or would she always have to be the girl he couldn't have?

There was only one way to find out, but he wasn't about to test it. He couldn't.

“Will,” Alyss whispered.

“Alyss?” he replied, if only to be able to hear her name again.

She paused. “Goodnight,” she said.

Will rolled his head back over to rest on the side of the ground, so he could face her when he said goodnight. She looked more beautiful than anything he could see in the sky… Now was that shallow?

Will’s mouth opened to say “goodnight” back to her, but his head had other plans. He had a feeling he knew what he was going to say, subconsciously, and he was too tired in that moment to stop it. He always wanted to do the things he knew he shouldn’t.

Reality couldn't keep him chained down now.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Alyss’s eyes snapped back open.


	6. Not Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been some time since Alyss and Cassandra made up in Nihon-Ja, but Cass doesn't want to settle for "okay".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was talking about Cassandra and how everybody hates her and about book 10, and this sorta happened. I’ve never actually written Cass before, so I’m worried she was a little OOC, or Alyss was. It's hard writing them together. Let me know how I did (it's my first time, let me live). Also, is it weird how writing this actually made me hate her more? Like, before this I didn’t even hate her but I kinda do now. Wow, that’s sad. Anyway, enjoy :)

Noon came before she even knew it. Cassandra sat around for a short time, deciding whether she was going to go or not. Eventually she told herself yes, she had to, because she made a promise and this was her idea anyway.

It was her idea, but she was dreading this. It felt like a bad idea when she wrote Alyss and asked if she wanted to go to lunch, and it was an even worse idea now. But, again, she made a promise, and she was going to keep it.

Cassandra didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself; she did that enough already. Just a simple, nice dress was appropriate for the outing, and she made sure her hair looked nice. Looking nice was still important to her, even if she didn’t have to look like she was going to a banquet. Alyss wouldn’t care much for that anyway.

Of course Harry was waiting to see her out. When she met him he was standing at the top of the staircase on the third floor, and he greeted her with a polite bow even though he knew they were miles past that. “Your Highness,” he said.

“Harry, you know you’re not coming with me, right?”

“Yes, but are you sure?” He followed her as she made her way down the stairs. “Going out by yourself-” he corrected himself, because Cassandra was going to do soon if he didn’t, “even with one other person is dangerous. I know she can defend herself, but she’s no ranger and neither are you-”

“We’ll be in public the whole time. I doubt that’s the best time to attack me, and if they do, I can take care of myself.” She lifted to show him the pouch she usually carried around with her, where her slingshot was hidden.

“Your slingshot can’t get you out of every situation,” he said.

“It can this one. Watch me.”

Harry sighed, for probably the seventieth time that day.

“And if it’s not safe then it’s necessary. It needs to be just us two, okay?” Cassandra reached the second floor, and turned to look over her shoulder at her personal guard. Any other day, she would let him come along for safety purposes, but this was the one exception.

They’d talked about this before, so Harry reluctantly nodded. He knew what was going to happen from the beginning of their conversation, but he just had to make sure. “Alright, then,” he said. “I understand.”

Harry escorted her to the door, where a few maids bowed to her and wished her a good afternoon. He held the door open for her and said with a kind smile, “Have a good time, Your Highness.”

Cassandra smiled back. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone,” she replied, and left Harry rolling his eyes at her and sighing for the seventy-oneith time. If anyone was going to be getting in trouble, it was Cass.

 

It was a nice day to be outside, so nice they could’ve gone for a walk that instead of getting lunch, had Cassandra have thought of that. The sky was all clear, but the sun wasn’t unforgivingly hot. The slight chill in the air kept it at bay. Too bad they were going to be eating inside.

She planned to meet Alyss in the restaurant; whichever one of them got there first would save a table.

It had been a good amount of time since they returned from Nihon-Ja, enough time for everything to settle down, between them and also politically. The two girls were on good terms again, just good enough to be in the same room without tension. It wasn’t even like they were still in danger of tearing each other’s throats out, it was a different kind of “okay”. They’d apologized before, agreed that they were both being stupid, and promised to be nice again, but that was all.

There was always the lingering thought that maybe if she just left it alone, things wouldn't be so bad. So maybe this wasn’t necessary, Cassandra thought. But no, it was. She didn’t want to settle for ‘okay’. That’s why she was the one who brought up the idea of having lunch.

Every time she thought about what their relationship was now, it bothered her. It was part of that leftover embarrassment from how awful she’d acted to her back in Nihon-Ja, probably.

Cassandra arrived there barely a minute before Alyss showed up. She’d taken a table near the back of the room, so they wouldn’t draw as much attention to themselves like Cassandra had done on her walk up there, being crown princess and all. Nobody could seem to forget about that.

Alyss spotted her quickly and walked over, giving her a small look of acknowledgement. Cass waved her over.

Only once before Nihon-Ja had they actually spent time together, alone, without any prompt from anyone else. They went to lunch, had a good time, talked a while… it was fun, and it never happened again. Did that make them friends? Cass wondered.

No, they weren’t friends.

“Hey,” Alyss said, sitting down across from her. The courier looked beautiful, in a simple but elegant white dress that reached her knees, and a short cloak just reaching her mid-arm. Around her neck was a necklace Cass had never seen before. It must’ve been new, or Alyss had just never talked about it before.

She only let herself admire it for a second, then took her eyes away and gave Alyss her attention.

“Hey,” she replied. “I tried to get a table near the back, so we wouldn’t draw as much attention.”

“Attention? We’re just a crown princess and a courier, looking for a little bite to eat. Not that big of a deal.” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

Cassandra scoffed. “Not according to literally everyone else in Araluen. For a while I thought about eating in the castle instead, but this is better.”

“Yeah, it is,” Alyss said. She relaxed a little bit in her seat; squared her shoulders against the back of the booth. “I think there’s less pressure this way. Eating in a castle makes it sound like a business meeting.”

A waitress came up to them quickly after Alyss sat down and took both of their drink orders. They had the same idea to order tea, but decided to wait to order their lunch.

The next minute was spent in silence, while they both took time to look over the menu and decide what they were getting, just so they could get that out of the way beforehand.

Then Cassandra had to ask.

“I haven’t seen that necklace before,” she said.

Alyss lifted her menu down from her face and glanced up at Cass. “It’s new,” she replied, and turned her eyes as down as she could to look at it. “Will got it for me earlier this week.”

“That’s sweet of him.”

“That reminds me, are there any plans for the wedding?” She spoke carefully, like this was a business meeting. It bothered Cass, but she understood why Alyss was building walls around her as she talked.

“No dates, yet, but we haven’t forgotten.” Then Cassandra chuckled, and continued, “My father certainly hasn’t. I think, in his mind, Horace is already his son-in-law and we’re years into our marriage.”

“I would’ve thought he’d be more… worried.” Alyss must’ve decided what she wanted, because she put down the menu and faced Cass.

“He was at first, but now not so much. Not with Horace.” She smiled. “That’s a good sign, I suppose.”

“Especially when the proposal was so sudden. I was worried about how that would go with him.”

That kind of took Cass off-guard, but she didn’t let it show through too much. “Well, yeah,” she said. “It kind of was, but… I don’t know, it felt right.”

“No, I understand. It’s not like it was a bad choice.”

“Do you think we were rushing things?”

Alyss paused. Her first thought was to say “no, you’ll be fine”, but then she wondered if telling the truth was a better idea. She decided to and said, “To tell the truth, I do.” Then quickly she added, “I don’t think it was a mistake, though, even if it was sudden.”

“Well… thanks.” Alyss didn’t reply in any way; she went back to looking at her menu, and Cassandra did the same, even though he knew what she was getting. That went on for about a minute, but it felt longer.

Thank god Cassandra didn’t have to awkwardly change the subject to keep a conversation going. Alyss spoke first, and she didn’t awkwardly change the subject either.

“I don’t want to offend you,” she said.

“You’re not, I…” Cassandra sighed, and looked away. Even looking away, though, felt like she was under such careful watch from her. “Stop being so… reserved.”

“Reserved?”

“Yeah. You look like you’re on guard, like I’m going to attack you or something,” she explained.

“I’m not.”

Cassandra had to choke back a laugh. She had expected Alyss to be like this, or she should have. “You said, defensively,” she pointed out.

“As opposed to you, who’s acting extra nice and polite right now.”

“I’m just being nice. Something wrong with that?” Cassandra duly noted to herself that that last sentence was, ironically, not very nice.

“We’re both on our guards, Cassandra, because… well, why are we doing this?” She came out with it just like that. The elephant in the room.

Cass’s heart sank in her chest. This was what she was afraid of. Alyss was letting down her guard, now, only to build a stronger one. “I don’t want things to be weird,” Cassandra answered, honestly. “Not after we fought.”

“Things aren’t still weird. I’m not still angry at you,” Alyss told her.

“Then why’re you acting all defensive?”

“Maybe because I’m embarrassed.”

Cassandra stared. Her eyes widened just a fraction, but when she expected Alyss to look away, she didn’t. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous, but she didn’t let the silence extend for too long either way.

“I’m embarrassed I acted so childishly to you,” she explained. “I’m still sorry for that, even if we’re both at fault. It’s not that I don’t want to have a relationship with you- I do, actually, it’s just-”

Cass interrupted her suddenly, looking angry despite what she said, “I don’t want to be just ‘okay’. I feel like, if we settle for ‘okay’, we’ll always be just ‘okay’. For God’s sake, our fiances, or our future fiances are best friends, so why can’t we be? Being with you is fun, Alyss, and even if it doesn’t go that far that we become the best of friends- because I’m a brat or something, I still want…”

I want to be your friend, she thought.

Out loud, she rephrased, “I hate missed opportunities. Maybe we could just see what we could be.”

Alyss’s eyes softened. Her whole attitude softened at this, as Cassandra could see by her body language. The walls around her crumbled, and she let them.

“You’re not a brat, Cass,” Alyss said, words leaving her mouth quietly like she was scared to say them.

Cassandra shook her head. “Yeah, sure,” she scoffed.

Her mouth opened again, but Alyss erased all her words when she leaned forward to her, put her elbows on the table and said, “Let’s just… both let down our guards. Stop being so needlessly polite and I’ll let my guard down. Start over.”

Cass’s mouth involuntarily curved into a smile, and she chuckled, unsure why. Alyss understood, though, and Cassandra saw her shoulders move up in jerked motions that said she was almost laughing too.

A taller figure approached the table, distracting them from each other and drawing their attention back to the present. The waitress smiled and asked, “Have you decided on your orders?”

Alyss and Cass exchanged quick looks. One at a time, they nodded. “Yeah, I think so,” Alyss said.

Cassandra ordered first, but she was thinking about something else. She thought about how she was diving headfirst into a friendship that, one, probably wouldn’t work out, two, in which neither of them had no idea how they were going to work together, and three, was budding right after a fight.

They may not be those two best friends attached at the hip, saying things at the same time, never leaving the other’s side… but it was okay. They didn’t have to promise that they would.


	7. Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alyss stays with Will for a few weeks to learn some self-defense.

Alyss slept light when she was alone. It was the way she'd been trained since she became an apprentice courier, and she never tried to get out of the habit. It had saved her life a few times.

But somewhere along the way, on accident, it had become a reflex to abandon her training when Will was in the same bed. She slept deeper, and longer. It was completely out of reflex, but she made no effort to change it.

The sun had just risen above the horizon and sunlight gleamed through the window on Will's side of the bed, painting the plain white walls around them. The couple were turned on their sides facing each other, hands curled up to their chests and nearly touching each other's. It gave Will a great angle to see Alyss's sleeping face when he woke up… something so beautiful he could watch it for days.

He just laid there for a while. Watching her. Being there.

Things were usually this way with Alyss, weren't they? he asked himself.

Will laid there for as long as he could, but he couldn't do that forever. Alyss had told him to wake her up the same time Will usually started his day, and she had been quite serious about it. Will couldn't imagine why she wouldn't want to sleep in- just because she was going to be acting like an apprentice for a little while didn't mean she really had to be like his apprentice. But it was more of the principle of it, and Will couldn't argue with that.

Minutes passed, then he finally put one hand on her shoulder and started shaking her; lightly at first, then slowly harder when she didn't wake up.

Soon a quiet groan escaped her mouth, indicating she was awake before she opened her eyes. By the sound of it, though, she was only half awake and hadn't yet fully returned to the world of the living. The attitude looked cute on her.

Will put his hand back down and used it to take hers. Maybe it would help her wake up more. And he whispered, "Good morning."

"Good morning…" she mumbled back. She buried her nose into the fabric of her pillow, like a cat nuzzling into somebody and purring. Will kind of wished it was him.

"Ready to work?" he asked.

"Work?" She thought about the word like it didn't sound familiar at all. "Hm… no, not yet."

Will smiled. "You said you wanted to wake up at the same time I did when I was an apprentice," he said. In a more gentle gesture, he let go of her hand and used his fingers to brush strands of hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"Well I didn't mean it… quite that literally," she said, leaning into his hand.

Will chuckled. "Now-"

"You weren't married when you were an apprentice," Alyss smirked at him. "It's different."

"Good thing, too. I would've never gotten up if I was."

She laughed, and it became more of a giggle. Then the familiar, peaceful silence returned; Will and Alyss spent a minute just staring into each other's eyes. Alyss was facing the window, so her grey eyes, now wide open, lit up and glowed a sparkling silver.

She whispered, "Just a minute more and you can bother me again until I get up."

"Or I could just… throw you out of bed."

"Mhm, good luck with that."

She decided before he did that she was in fact going back to sleep, and there was nothing he could do about it. Alyss exhaled deeply, scooted closer to him and let her body fall completely limp so it was obvious she was going back to sleep whether he wanted her to or not.

Five minutes later they got out of bed.

\--------------------------------------

Alyss spent some time outside warming up her arm with some short range throwing, while Will warmed up inside with some coffee.

She didn't practice archery like Will, because she would probably never have to use it. What she did need to learn was self-defense at a close distance. Especially with knives. She was actually the one that came up with the idea for Will to teach her some standard knife defense, actually, and Will was immediately onboard with it. Of course, Alyss learned some self defense training to be a courier, but it had been too long since she used it and it was never taught in the complexity that Will knew.

Not to mention it gave Alyss an excuse to stay with Will for a week. Or two. Or three. Three weeks should be way more than enough to teach someone like Alyss self-defense, but who needed to know that?

That morning she had been slow to get up, but when she walked out the door of the cabin and into the chilly, morning air, suddenly she was bursting with energy. She did some standard stretches, and began throwing immediately. Wouldn't want this motivation to go to waste.

The first few knives were off by a couple inches, but it didn't take long for her to remember how to throw. She was back on track, better than she was the day before. Soon she started taking steps back from the targets, pushing herself even harder, as she hit the bullseye or the inner circle outside the bullseye every time. She threw further and faster.

Alyss noticed when Will came out of the cabin to watch her, but she didn't say anything. He leaned against the post nearest to her and stayed silent like that for a minute. Just until she was done. She was "in the zone" (he knew the feeling), and he liked seeing her so focused on her work. If only she could see him smiling with admiration at her.

In the short time she'd been there, Will had been able to successfully teach her how to throw knives, and some basic combat. Maybe combat before throwing would've been a more natural way to teach her, but this way, while she learned steps to close quarters combat she would have plenty of time to practice her throwing. Throwing knives took more practice than instruction, once she knew what to do.

Will had to know these things. He was going to get an apprentice of his own someday; Alyss was a great way to test his teaching skills. So this was just as much practice for him as it was for her.

Alyss finished that round of knives, and went to retrieve them.

With an opportunity to speak, the ranger asked, "You're feeling extra good today, aren't you?"

She held a semi-proud smile on her face, with good reason. "Does it show?"

"A lot. You're doing great." Will nodded to the targets; Alyss turned her eyes away to tear the knives out of the board.

Will left the porch and walked into the clearing behind her, knowing she wouldn't turn around yet. Her head was turned away, and she didn't hear one footstep behind her. In fact, all Alyss heard was his voice, and only when he chose to show it to her.

Sometimes she forgot just how dangerous Will was.

"Are you warmed up?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Good." That was her only warning. Will drew his own knife out of his belt, and lunged forward. He would've stopped, had Alyss not sensed him and dodged his attack, but she did. His blade ripped through the empty air where her body once was.

The courier stumbled away to buy herself time. She gripped one knife of her own in one hand, clumsily stashed one in the belt of her trousers, and dropped the rest. Will had taught her to always keep a second weapon on hand. Obviously, even in combat, Alyss didn't forget it.

Will got to attack first again. He aimed for her head with an upward cut, which she fluidly dodged. Alyss stepped far enough away to avoid it, and then some, and thrust her knife up towards his throat.

But Will had enough space to avoid it, and he blocked it with his free hand, just for extra protection. Alyss stepped far enough away from him that he had room.

Another mistake she made was not grabbing the arm that had just attacked her. Will's weapon was still free, waiting to strike back, because dodging didn't do anything but buy her time. The blunt side of his knife met the skin of her neck, not violently, but nevertheless touched it at a diagonal angle. He tipped her head back, so she was standing off balance, and held her hand firmly away from his neck. When she was stumbling just to stay on her feet, she knew it was over. And this all happened in less than three seconds.

Before she knew it, she was caught immovable, off-balance with her right arm caught and her throat at risk of being cut. Even if she pulled her second knife out, she wouldn't be able to keep herself up.

Will could've moved three times as fast if this was real, she thought.

The ranger grinned. "Good," he said, despite her losing. She wasn't ever going to win, after all. He withdrew and she did the same.

Now she knew it was time for comments.

"Smart move, attacking the neck instead of the stomach," he said. "My hand was blocking my stomach, and you noticed that, so you went for the upper body instead." He held a kind, but serious tone when he taught her, even when complimenting her.

Will continued, "A few things, though- you should've grabbed my wrist when I first attacked you." He set them back up in the position they were just in; showed her exactly what he meant. He put her hand on his knife hand and said, "If you had kept my arm in your hand and twisted your body, I wouldn't have been able to win. Okay?"

"Okay." She repeated it again in her head, committing it to memory as she replied.

"Also, step in closer to me when you're dodging attacks. Especially in knife fighting, being in at a close distance is dangerous, but it's much more dangerous to have to stretch and attack. That make sense?"

"Mhm." Alyss smiled at him so he knew she understood. "Got it."

"Great." He withdrew away from her and stood at a normal distance. "Now for the main lesson."

Will had Alyss set the extra few knives on the porch, out of their way. They only needed one knife for this lesson.

"Going to teach me how to kill a man with one move?" she joked, putting them away with her back turned. Will wouldn't attack her at a time like this.

Will snorted. "I wish," he said. "No, but it's very important. It can get frustrating at first, but once you get the hang of it it could save your life."

Alyss nodded. She walked directly in front of him, about a yard away. "Alright. What is it?"

"Say… say you're attacking me," he explained. "You can target the middle, the right, or the left, right? Let's make it simple and forget about all the different heights you can aim for. Three options; then when you're defending you have two: dodge, or block."

"Three, if you count getting hit." Alyss smirked.

Will paused. "Well, yeah. For the sake of the lesson let's say you're so confident in yourself that getting hit isn't even an option." He went on, grinning, "So if somebody attacks your left side, it's not very smart to go left to dodge it. And vice versa- if somebody goes for your right side, don't move into the attack. It sounds simple, but it's hard, if you don't have enough time to work out which direction they're going in, or they trick you, or if they're very good at concealing it… well, it's a matter of life and death."

"So you're going to teach me… when to move right and when to move left?"

"Yes, but I'm also going to build up your instinct," Will explained. "I know how fast of a thinker you are, Alyss. What you need is a fighter's instinct, and you need to learn how to trust it. Knife fighting, really any kind of fighting is a harmonious balance between immediate reactions and intelligence. So this is an exercise in avoiding attacks, but while you have to be thinking wisely, it's also a lesson in instinct."

Alyss nodded. "Okay," she said. "I got it."

"Then let's start."

The courier chuckled. He sounded a lot like Halt just then.

\--------------------------------------

"Stand still for now. Be ready for any attack I throw."

Alyss did as he said.

The ranger studied her for a moment, watching her focus. Alyss's lips twitched like she was going to smile, but she forced them down into a frown. This was serious. Who cared if this was her husband? Right now he was a ranger, too.

Alyss watched his face for an indication he was going to attack, but found nothing. Then, without any sort of warning Will slid the knife out of his belt, and cut to her left shoulder. Luckily, he was slow enough that she saw where he was going and could dodge the knife right before it hit her.

"Don't be so tense," Will told her, as they reset their positions. "Relax your muscles and you'll move much smoother and quicker."

"Okay."

Will came at her again. This time he aimed for her right side, and Alyss remembered to relax herself. She also, whether it was on accident or intended, moved much later than she did the first time. Will was a almost a foot away from hitting her when she dodged his knife.

Any other person would have stopped their knife a foot away when practicing, so they wouldn't accidentally hit their opponent if they didn't move. Alyss knew Will was better than that. He had demonstrated to her before, when she asked, that he had incredible control. He could throw a strong punch at her, like he was actually going to hit her, and stop before he hit her with less than an inch between them. It was amazing, and Alyss had total faith in his abilities. But that also meant Alyss wasn't taking any chances.

Will pulled back, an approving look in his eyes.

"Good," he told her. "You moved at the right time. The later you move, the harder it is for your opponent to change direction. Now I'm going to attack faster."

He did just that. Alyss suddenly remembered what he'd said earlier and didn't try to analyze where he was moving, like the past two times. She saw he was coming in with a swinging down motion, but his arm went diagonal halfway down and didn't attack her center like it hinted. That was intentional, so she had no idea where he was going to target until he let her know. When his intentions revealed themselves, she went with her instinct, which, unfortunately, was wrong. He went left, just as she did, too.

But Will's blade stopped an inch from her stomach, not even grazing her skin. Alyss pulled, or shrunk away. She muttered a curse underneath her breath.

Will smiled. "Don't get discouraged, I didn't even get it on my first try. It was hilarious, because Halt was moving even slower than I did the first time and I still ran into the attack. It was completely idiotic; you should've seen his face."

Alyss couldn't help but laugh.

Just as Will told her, Alyss gave herself a little slack. She was just learning, after all. Will came at her again, to the left side this time, but she still moved in the wrong direction.

Will noticeably slowed down for the next one.. and Alyss couldn't help but be a little angry at him. Not even irritated, just angry. She could do this, and she didn't want anybody to take it easy on her when she was falling short.

Even as she told herself, though, that she would get better so Will wouldn't have to spoon feed her, she felt her body stiffening. She couldn't think at all through her frustration, so every time Will attacked, she moved in the wrong direction. Every time she ran into the knife. But this only made her more frustrated, and she caught herself in a vicious cycle that didn't quit until Will noticed it happening.

He stopped, after the sixth or seventh try. "Alyss…" he began, but couldn't continue before she interrupted him.

"Dammit. I'm sorry, I'll get it this time." Will stepped out of his fighting stance, but Alyss got more serious. He could see the obvious strain and aggravation on her face.

"Alyss-"

"Do it again."

"No, I'll wait." Will tucked his knife into his belt. He said, "Relax a little, then you'll-"

"I don't need to."

"Yes, you-"

"I'm not a child, I can get this." Alyss looked at him like she was angry, but Will knew she wasn't angry at him. She couldn't fool him like that. "Don't slow down for me, okay?" she snapped.

"Don't get frustrated," Will told her. Even his kind, affectionate tone didn't calm her down. She was angrier than ever. "Instinct isn't something you can learn in an afternoon."

"But I-!"

"Don't interrupt me, just listen, okay?" Will took two strides forward and took hold of her shoulders. He held her so she was forced to look at him. She glared at him. "You can do this, I know you can," he said firmly. "But if you get frustrated, you're going to sabotage yourself and I can assure you, you won't understand it that way."

Alyss was silent in the few seconds that Will gave her to respond, but he could see her anger eroding away.

Will looked seriously into her eyes, and said, "Don't get angry, and try again. The only way this is going to work is if you let yourself mess up first."

Alyss suddenly looked embarrassed. She nodded, regretting her words already. "Okay." And she had said before she wasn't a child… but this entire rant, she felt, made her look like a toddler.

Will didn't see this look of intense shame on her face. He was too busy taking out his knife again, and getting ready to attack her. "Ready?" he asked.

The courier didn't answer yet. Honestly, she was wondering if she was even cut out to be learning self defense if she couldn't go one lesson without exploding. But in that small span of two seconds where she hesitated to reply, she remembered Will's words.

"The only way this is going to work is if you let yourself mess up first."

And Alyss felt those words sink in deeper than they had the first time. Whether her rant was childish or not… she needed to let herself get past it.

"Ready," she replied.

Alyss's shoulders dropped. Ten pounds of tension left her body, and she comforted herself again with what Will had said before. Just until she could comfort herself with her own words. "You can do this, I know you can."

When Will launched himself at her, at the same speed he had been going before they argued, she let herself dodge the knife extra early. She didn't wait until it was a foot away, she moved as soon as her natural instinct told her to, which was much earlier. But as she expected the blade to stop inches away from her, she watched it sail next to her in the opposite direction, slicing through the air as quickly as if Will had had every intention to hit her.

She grinned, despite her better judgement to stay completely serious. Alyss allowed herself to take things just a bit farther, and threw her arm around the front of his neck. Before he could defend himself, Will was trapped in a semi-loose headlock from his wife behind him.

"A-Alyss-!" he laughed. "You-!"

"You said this was a life or death situation!"

"Have mercy on me! Don't kill me, please, I have so much to live for," he cried.

"Your time's over, Ranger Will." She tensed up, to pull him closer to her and planted a heavy kiss on his cheek. She saw and felt him blush a light red, luckily not from being choked. She had loosened her grip enough for him to breathe easily.

"Hey…" Alyss said. Suddenly she was serious again. She whispered gently into his ear, "Did I ever tell you you're going to be a great mentor?"

Will paused, mouth open in surprise from before. Then it slowly formed into a brilliant grin. "Did I ever tell you you're going to be a great fighter?"

"Thanks. I think I could be."

Will turned his head far enough around to give her a proper kiss on the lips, and even though they were at an awkward angle, they kissed until they got used to it and it didn't feel awkward.

Then their practice resumed.


	8. Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilan goes on a mission with Will and Horace, and they have a little fun making fun of his awful drawing skills.

The sun had set not even an hour ago. Will, Gilan and Horace were safe under the cover of the forest, a good hundred yards away from the town and with it, the enemy camp.

The only lights out that night were the stars, the crescent moon, and the blazing campfire in the middle of town that didn't give them much light when they were crouching in the forest. At least the stars and moon were enough to see each other for now.

It was a clear shot once they got out of the trees, except for the small, tiny problem of four armed enemy guards blocking their way across the river. Gilan and Will were great at unseen movement, but it could prove to be difficult when crossing a river with nothing to cover them but the night.

But now that they had a good idea of the layout of their area, they could start making an attack plan. It was usually Will that came up with the plans, but this time, Gilan had something in mind.

“So we could attack this group of bandits straight out, and we would win,” he said. He began illustrating their position, then the town’s about a half foot away. Unlike Will, he worked better with a visual. “We could just shoot them down and sneak in from there, or sneak in close to them and take them out...” And then he just stopped talking.

Will glanced awkwardly at the knight next to him, but Horace was just as clueless as he was. The way he phrased it, it sounded like Gilan a second part to that thought but forgot where he was going with it before he finished. Like running to dive off a cliff and then falling a few feet from the edge. Gilan just kept drawing, completely silent.

“So…… why don’t we do that?” Will asked, eventually.

“Because there are people watching them from inside the camp. If they’re shot, people will see, then those people will wake up more people, and so on. They could fight back against us. Not to mention, I wouldn’t be surprised if they just burned the entire town down once we started taking over.” Gilan put the stick down and adjusted his own position on the ground. “Sorry, I knew that before I stopped, but I had to finish my drawing.”

Will stared blankly down at the plan. “Great,” he said. “It looks beautiful.”

“I know, right?”

Suddenly Will was honest with him, “Your buildings look like curvy trapezoids.”

Gilan sneered. “Well, I’m so sorry, Mr. Professional Artist.”

“We could… lure the bandits out to us,” Horace said, trying to take a neutral position in this argument. “If they have a reason to leave, people won’t be suspicious.”

“That’s good.” Gilan drew an arrow from the bandits to the group’s position. “Then we could… wait, hold on.” Gilan erased the last part of the arrow, which had become more of a squiggly line than an arrow, and Will and Horace had to watch as Gilan painstakingly redrew the end to make it perfectly straight again.

“There, it’s straight. Shut up, Will.”

Will looked offended. “I wasn’t saying anything that time,” he said. Will wasn’t even supposed to be here, Gilan remembered. Neither was Horace, for that matter. Gilan was the one sent to deal with these bandits, but he met Will along the way, who offered his help and Gilan took him up on that offer. Horace was about to pass through Les Sourges when he discovered it was taken over and he thought it was only polite to help, too. From there their duo expanded into a trio, but Gilan was still in charge.

So Will could shut up, Gilan thought, because he wouldn't even be there if it wasn't for him.

“Anyway,” Will said, “with the guards gone, Gilan and I could slip in undetected and start taking people out from the inside.”

“But we still haven’t decided how to get the bandits out of position,” Horace said. He preferred to plan according to what would come first, and what was last. He knew, though, that rangers thought a little more freely.

“Hm…” Will thought aloud. “Luring someone out requires baiting them, sometimes by raising an alarm and sometimes using… well, a more peaceful approach. We can't have them suspecting anything, because that's why we’re going through all this trouble of baiting them, so we need a peaceful way to distract them.”

“We could use Horace as bait,” Gilan suggested.

“No.”

“No.”

Gilan sighed. “Relax a little, you guys. I wouldn’t do that to him.”

Horace opened his mouth to reply with something about Gilan talking about him like he wasn’t there, but Will was the one to interrupt the argument that time. “We could use the horses,” the ranger said. “The bandits have been stealing horses along the way and taking them with them, so if they saw Tug, Blaze and Kicker nearby, they would go after them.” Gilan began hurriedly drawing that next addition to the plan.

Horace caught on, “And we could call the horses back deeper into the forest, leading the bandits to us.”

“Exactly.” Will smiled. “With three horses, we can also guarantee that most, if not all of the guards will be coming after them.”

“Alright, then,” Gilan said. He was putting the last touches on the horses. “That should take out the few guards so Will and I can sneak through the camp.”

“And where do the dead bears come in?” Will asked.

Gilan looked up at Will and stared. Usually Gilan was just a little bit confused on something and needed some quick clarification to figure it out… but this time, he had absolutely no idea what Will was talking about. He had less than no idea. “What?” he asked.

Will nodded down to the ground. “These things.” He pointed to the three “horses” Gilan drew and repeated, “Where do the dying bears come in?”

Gilan glared at him. “They’re horses! Leave my art alone!”

Will squinted his eyes at the “horses”. He stared really hard like his vision was failing him. “...Really?” he asked.

“Yes, you little shit!”

They heard the quick burst of a laugh from Horace, who quickly shut back up.

Will shook his head, grinning and said, “Sorry, sorry. You told us to relax a little, so I…”

“That’s not what I meant!” Gilan glanced back at the drawing. “How do they look like they’re dying, anyway?” he asked. “They’re standing up.”

“Not like that. They look dead inside.”

“Oh, well that’s just great.”

“So…” Horace said, slowly and unsure if they would actually listen, “can you two take out the whole camp by yourselves? Because once you’ve done enough, you could give me a signal and I could go in, too. It’s awkward just sitting there, waiting for something to do.”

Gilan was drawing himself and Will, as stick figures moving towards vaguely rectangular blobs. Will half paid attention to him and half thought about Horace’s question.

“If we need you we’ll give you a signal, but I think, for the sake of being as quick and quiet as possible, Gilan and I should go alone. Or you can help round them all up when we’re done,” he said.

Horace nodded. “Okay, that’s fine.”

They both turned back to Gilan’s almost finished drawing. “I didn’t mean to become the designated artist here,” Gilan mumbled. “But I had to prove a point.” He angrily threw the stick down on the dirt next to him.

Will stared. “With what?”

“What?!” he exclaimed. “These are much better better than the dead bears!” Gilan pointed to the sloppy looking stick figures supposed to be Will and Gilan, then the one back with the horses that represented Horace. They could've been drawn by an eight year old. An eight year old who wasn't trying and might've been drunk.

“Ohh, I see,” Will said. “This one is Horace because he’s got a sword.”

“Yes, obviously.” Gilan crossed his arms over his chest.

“And this one is me because I have a big ‘W’ on my face.”

“I couldn’t think of anything else,” Gilan said.

“And this one is you… why?” Will looked back up at his fellow ranger.

“The hair.” Gilan pointed to the long, luxurious hair on the rather plain looking stick figure. “I’m the only one with nice hair, out of the three of us.”

“It’s certainly the longest.”

Gilan sneered, and turned away stubbornly. Although he tried, Will couldn’t keep a straight face and tried desperately to hide his giggling. Even Horace was starting to laugh now.

“Well,” the older ranger spat, “excuse me, Mr. I’m So Amazing At Art. We became rangers instead of artists for a reason, you know.”

“I’m just kidding, Gilan, you know that.” Will punched him playfully in the shoulder. “It’s good enough that we can see what we’re going to do. So let’s go over it one more time.”

“Okay,” Horace said. He repeated exactly what they'd decided on: “So we distract the stick figures with the dead bears, lure them out, then the W and the wavy hair infiltrate the blob land and quietly take everyone out while the sword thing waits for a signal.”

Horace was looking down, but he could feel Gilan’s intense glare on him since he said ‘the dead bears’. He didn’t dare look up. He might die.

Seconds that felt like hours passed, where the only sound between them was Will’s uncontrollable laughter.

“Y’all are awful,” Gilan spat. He stood up, fast enough they couldn’t see the next look on his face and started walking away, probably to the horses.

The last thing they heard before Gilan disappeared behind the next row of trees, was him, half grinning half muttering, “I’ll get the dead bears, then.” And he walked away, leaving Will and Horace to laugh and reluctantly erase the horrendous drawing.


	9. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here, read about Will actually being happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to readingdidyoumeanbreathing on Tumblr who suggested this

With a new fief always came new territory for a ranger to explore. The sooner they learned it the better, because it wasn’t just their home. It was a weapon they could potentially use to their advantage, or their enemies’ disadvantage. Whoever knew the land the best in a fight was usually the winner.

If there were lakes, they needed to know. If there was a big mountain nearby, they needed to know. If there was a field of cacti rumored by the locals to grow legs at night and run around, a ranger needed to know that kind of stuff.

Sometimes there were things similar to fields of haunted cacti. But sometimes it was much better.

In Will’s case in Seacliff, that was a little place he liked to call Wildflower Hill. It was exactly what the name suggested: a hill covered in blue, yellow and purple wildflowers. It began where the forest ended, which made it very convenient for Will because that neighboring forest was in fact the same one his cabin was built in.

Sometimes Will enjoyed coming out there to de-stress. To lie down and relax, picnic, or sleep if he was tired enough. It was a luxury he could only afford once, maybe twice a week, but that was enough for him.

Too much and the place would lose its meaning.

Will laid in the field that day, in a big enough clearing so that he wouldn’t be hurting any flowers. Tug stood behind him, grazing.

There was nothing special about this day.

“Don’t eat the flowers, Tug,” Will mumbled. “They don’t taste good.” Not that he really knew.

Half a second later, Will heard a sputter and a snort behind him. “Told you,” he said. The horse didn’t reply.

Some wildflowers were poisonous, but he talked to the botanists in the town and made sure that none of the flowers here were. He didn’t have to worry about Tug getting sick from it.

Still, it might look bad if there was a big patch of nothing in the middle of everything. Whenever he picked some wildflowers to use in his cooking, he made sure to pick at the edges of the field where it was less noticeable. And why would Tug want to eat flowers anyway?

Will closed his eyes and smiled. The breeze was being nice to him today. It caressed his hair, ever so slightly carrying it up and styled it on one side of his head just over his left eye.

A leaf fell down from a lone tree hanging over Will and landed on his nose. He tried to blow it off, but that didn’t do a thing but push it up to lie in between his eyes.

And he laughed.

He laughed...

He didn’t have to wonder why.

When Will opened his eyes again, he could tell some time had passed. Maybe an hour had gone by since he laid down, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to care. He would most certainly regret it later, but he searched and searched and there was no fear inside him. Will couldn’t remember when he’d last felt this way.

So it had to be worth it, right?

...Yes. Yes, it was worth it.

He reached over and picked a flower next to him. Tug was lying slightly higher on the hill, above his head, resting his own within Will’s reach.

“I might make you a little flower crown,” Will mumbled, picking some of the petals off the blue wildflower and placing them on Tug’s head. “And me one, too.”

Tug woke up during this, being extra sensitive as ranger horses should be… but he didn’t move. Instead he let Will decorate his head with petals, then Will moved on to himself and sprinkled a few in his own hair to match.

Maybe most of them would fall out, but Will didn’t care. He smiled and closed his eyes again. He could taste the sea salt on his tongue from the ocean a few miles away… he could feel the tiny petals of wildflowers kissing his skin. He smiled and let them take him away.

There was nothing special about this day, but Will liked it that way. Had it been something important, it might’ve taken away its real meaning.


	10. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: the real reason why Will and Horace became enemies

“Come on, Horace,” Will whispered. “You can do it.”

“I’m telling you,” Horace warned, “it’s a bad idea.”

The two friends crouched on one side of Will’s bed, so low that the moonlight gleaming through the window didn’t catch them and they remained instead concealed in the shadows. It was well past midnight now, but they were wide awake, plotting. Six year old boys didn’t get much sleep when there was so much to do.

“You’re going to be fine. Trust me, I-” From across the room, they heard something stir. At the same time their heads turned to look at their sleeping ward-mate tucked in the corner bed. They knew George tossed and turned more than either of them at night, but every time he did, neither boy could be sure he wasn’t waking up and catching them.

Will turned back and faced Horace. In a quieter voice he said, “I’ve done this before and I’ve never gotten caught.”

“Because you’re good at that,” Horace whispered. “I’m not. You could climb up a tower in the middle of the day and not be seen.”

“Then you should learn. I’d do it, but even if I was a ranger, I couldn’t do it with this.” Will lifted his bandaged hand, something he earned the night before from choosing the wrong tree branch to support his weight. At least it was his left hand.

“I know,” Horace said. “So let’s not do it at all.”

“They’ll notice the sword by tomorrow, and we’ll have to tell them how it got up there.”

“But if I get caught- which I will- they’re going to ground me for a week. Or more.” Horace glanced away from his friend’s eyes, his friend who, at this point, acted more like a brother to him.

Will nodded. “You’re thinking of the thing tomorrow.” Starting on Monday was the annual mock tournament hosted by Sir Rodney, the Battlemaster of Redmont and head of the Redmont Battleschool. He was also Horace’s idol.

The tournament was only for small kids and the students of the Battleschool. Anybody in the school past their third year could sign up, and everybody did sign up, so that made for a lot of kids. All the fights were one-on-one, usually lasting two to four minutes; in an arena big enough to fool someone into thinking they were watching a real tournament. And it might as well have been a real tournament. There was no prize in winning besides bragging rights, but that was enough for them.

Of course there were concession stands, school pride merchandise, many kinds of souvenirs like fake swords and knives for small kids, less-fake-but-still-pretty-fake daggers for older kids, the informative book on knighthood written by Sir Rodney a decade or two ago- surprisingly still so popular and relevant that it continued to be a bestseller around Araluen and neighboring fiefs, Sir Rodney himself at one point or another so that he may autograph the book, armor, most likely, medical kits and bandages to wipe the blood of the underage competitors; and much more.

The other part of the tournament was something that began after its twentieth birthday. After all the fights on the last two days were short, thirty minute classes for children who wanted to learn how to swordfight. It was only for kids over six and under thirteen (this was the first time any of the Ward kids could attend). They would receive a private lesson with one of the top twenty students in the school, get to meet and talk with Sir Rodney about knighthood, and for no cost. The whole tournament was, in fact, paid for by the school’s own funding.

Horace had only recently become fixated on the idea of knighthood someday, but the way he talked about it, one might think he’d had the idea for years. He went so far as to carve his own, homemade wooden sword from some wood he found in the stables. Considering his lack of knowledge of how to carve, it didn’t look that bad.

He ran around swinging it, pretending to be a knight, and then hitting his ward-mates with it he pretended were knights from other countries, particularly George. Will surrendered early on and humbly asked Sir Horace if they could join forces. They did, and Horace continued being a knight while Will sat in a tree with his homework and a book, having bought his safety.

Alyss hit him over the head with a stick and walked back inside, so the only one left to attack was George.

Finally Jenny came out and confronted Horace, defending George, and demanded he stop or else she would “make him”.

Of course Horace didn’t take her seriously. That was a mistake. She kicked him in the shin; he doubled over, and she snatched the sword from his hand and threw it as high and far as she could in the opposite direction.

It landed on the roof, far out of their reach. After seeing where it’d gone she turned her back, and with her head held high, walked proudly away.

Will and Horace promised that they would get the sword back before asking any adults to find it. Jenny was many things, but she was not a tattletale. Nobody knew about the sword but them.

Which was what they planned to get back that night.

“I got in trouble last week, too,” Horace said. “If I get caught, they won’t let me go to the tournament and I’ll never be a knight.”

Will snorted. “You’ll be fine. Even if you get caught, you’re still gonna be a knight someday. Like me. We’ll both be knights.”

A smile appeared on Horace’s face at the idea. Will had wanted to go to Battleschool for years since he learned his father had been one. Horace would never admit it, but Will was the only reason why he got the idea, too.

Horace sighed.

“You think you’re up for it?”

“I think you’re crazy.”

“Well duh.”

“There’s too much at stake here,” Horace said. “I really, really can’t miss this tournament. I can’t.” The boy’s lips pursed together in between sentences, hoping it would help convey some of his feelings across to his brother. Even if it didn’t cost him knighthood, it would still rob him of a chance, his first and only chance in a year to see his heroes in action. “If I get caught-”

“You won’t.”

“I-”

“Trust me.” Will caught his eyes then, and held them this time. “I wouldn’t let you do this if I knew you were gonna get in trouble.”

That was enough for Horace. It took a second, but then a grin spread over his face, and Will mirrored it with a smile of his own.

“Brothers?” Will asked.

Horace nodded. “Brothers.” And he meant it.

They stood up from their hiding place, knees and back still bent to avoid the light from catching them red-handed. They pushed open the already cracked door and snuck through to the main room of the ward.

Will retold him the plan as they walked. He said, “So outside the front door is that big clearing. As long as you stay close to the walls you should be okay, but there’s a guy who circles around every once in a while so we have to be quick.”

“Okay. What about the front door? Isn’t it locked?”

Will smiled and with his good hand, he pulled a ring of several keys out of his pocket.

Horace stared. He could have a very expressive face when he was surprised, or in disbelief, like he was now. He didn’t know how Will got that, and frankly, he didn’t want to.

“So,” Will continued uninterrupted, “you go out there, stay close to the wall- and there’s no ladder around, but go to the left because there’s a window. Start climbing there.” They reached the front door, and Will and Horace squatted down facing each other as Will gestured his directions. He waved his hand to the left. “There’re lots of holes in the wall you can grab onto, then the window sill when you get higher. With that, you should be able to climb high enough to reach the sword.”

“Okay,” Horace nodded.

It wasn’t the smoothest plan, but Will was quite proud of it. He’d done things like this before, so why shouldn’t Horace be able to? He was confident he could.

Both their heads snapped up when they heard footsteps coming closer and closer to the front door. Horace began to panic and looked at Will. Will shook his head and put a finger to his lips. The look in his eyes said “trust me”, the same look he had before when he was convincing Horace in their room. It was the look that threw an arm around Horace and locked him in his place. Made him get scared to look anywhere else.

Will was just so sure of himself. Like there was nothing standing in his way that he couldn’t knock down. It was amazing. It wasn’t often when Will truly, unabashedly let his confidence shine through, but Horace saw it in him every day; buried deep, too shy to come out in anyone’s presence but Horace’s.

The footsteps got farther and farther away. Horace remembered that that was the one-man-patrol Will was talking about and not someone about to come in the door. He calmed himself down; tried to slow his beating heart. Horace had gotten in trouble for sneaking out past curfew before, so it wasn’t like it was all unfamiliar to him.

And even though he knew if he got caught it wouldn’t be the end of the world, it kind of felt like it.

After it was quiet, Will waited about twenty seconds before he started fitting keys to unlock the door. “Okay, are you ready?”

“Yeah.” A smile spread on young Horace’s face. Finally, his adrenaline was kicking in.

Will saw this and gave him the same look back. “I’ll be watching the other wall from a window over there.” He quickly gestured to his left. “If the guard starts coming, I’ll let you know and just… try to make yourself invisible.”

That was a terrible plan, but Horace didn’t have another idea, either, so he just nodded, trusted him, and let Will open the front door. Cool air seeped in.

Horace gave his friend one last, noble look. He placed a fist over his heart and puffed up his chest. “And off I go,” he said, all mature and knightly.

Will covered his mouth with his hand to muffle his laugh, and let Horace slip past him into the night.

The ward had two stories. The window Will talked about, about ten yards from the door, was built into the second floor, one of three windows that looked into the small library. So it was too high for Horace to just jump and reach. Kind of disappointing.

Horace glanced both ways, then began to sneak down the house, keeping within an inch or less to the red and brown bricks that made up the wall. His heart pounded in his chest loud enough to make him conscious of every little sound he made. He still knew very well no one was out there besides him. If someone were, he would feel it. But instead the emptiness was its own presence. It swallowed him, held him, a hollow shell of which he crept along the edges of. Thinking about it made him excited and terrified at the same time.

He glanced back when he was halfway to the window. Will wasn’t there, and Horace remembered he would be watching the other window in case the guard was close. No reassuring looks for him right now. Whatever. Horace didn’t need him.

Horace picked up the pace. He moved away from the wall a little bit and gave himself more room to move. As Will said, there were plenty of holes to grab onto and lift himself up. When he was directly below the window sill, he felt around for a deep enough hand grip, and pulled himself higher.

He began slowly. After a minute he was getting into the feel of it.

The height wasn’t terrible because he couldn’t see how high he was. With the effort he was putting into climbing, and the awkward angle his head had to turn in to look down, he wouldn’t have been able to if he wanted. The wind blew at his back, and he froze. Then he scolded himself for it, and kept climbing. Faster. Faster. His adrenaline rushed, and to his own shock, he started to grin.

He pushed away the thoughts of how far away the guard was; the knowledge that if he got caught, he would look really, really bad in front of the one person he wanted to be like someday.

Will only reached his lookout post by climbing on top a counter; seeing by putting his face so close to the window that his nose left a print on the glass.

It’d been five minutes since Horace walked out.

Will didn’t have to worry too much about himself getting caught. If he was outside his room past curfew, it’d be a slap on the wrist. If he were outside the house at night, climbing the walls to retrieve something that would get him in lots of trouble in the first place… that was something entirely different.

Still, when he heard something shuffling behind him, it scared him. He let a gasp slip out his mouth and jumped off the counter behind a chair. Several moments passed and nothing else moved… It might have been the floor settling, Will decided. Or something.

He tried to awkwardly climb back up on the counter again. He couldn’t remember quite how he did it before; the top was made out of tile, very slick tile, good for cleaning up messes but not so fun to sit on.

However, he didn’t need to.

The door burst open with the sound of a crack of lightning, and Will slipped right back off the counter, taking cover behind the chair like before. Somebody stomped in, and somebody else followed him, yelling, kicking, and fighting. When Will listened to the words:

“No! No! Please don’t!”

“You’re not allowed to be out there past curfew. Hasn’t Baron Arald told you this before? This isn’t the first time you’ve been caught breaking rules.”

Will turned pale. If not for the darkness he enshrouded himself in, and the thin wall that separated him from the main room, he would’ve glowed. He realized Horace wasn’t following him in, rather being carried over the guard’s shoulder. Otherwise he would run off- and he was trying. Will was as scared for him as if he were in Horace’s place instead.

But Will had been watching! He was on lookout every second Horace was out there… he only stopped for a few seconds to make sure no one was awake, and the guard must’ve slipped past in that window of time. His heart sank.

The silence was stunning. The guard disappeared down the hallway, but Will didn’t leave.

Will’s lips mouthed the name of his brother; every other part of him was too stunned to work. Guilt swallowed his heart like a tidal wave. He kept waiting to move and run out of his spot, beg the guard to let Horace go and tell him it was his fault, that he’s the one who set Horace up to do it, and he was only doing him a favor…

But he never did.

Will knew it wouldn’t have worked anyway, he would’ve just gotten both of them in trouble. But Horace didn’t realize that.

He waited for Will to come out and save him, but he never did. He would find him asleep in his own bed, or feigning sleep, and doing it quite well, because even if Horace had the heart to sell him out, the guard would’ve never believed him.

But he never did.

\----------------------------------

The next day, Horace ignored Will all through breakfast. He didn’t even look at him. Will got his attention once, but the only acknowledgement of his existence he received was a quick glare and nothing else. And although the glare was quick, it felt worse than a punch to the gut. The silence was even worse. That was torture.

The tournament didn’t cheer Will up. He just felt like crying. At least Horace wasn’t there to make it worse; he was grounded, like they knew he would be.

Still, Will persisted on. When he came back from the tournament that night, he and the ward kids ate dinner, during which Horace spent blithely ignoring him and pretending instead like there was an empty space where his body was.

Will’s heart sank with every little word they didn’t say. He just wanted to apologize. He apologized more often than he didn’t that day, but every one of them was just like stabbing a needle in the hide of a dragon. It seemed like every apology made Horace angrier.

And yet, Will didn’t know why his brother was so angry.

After dinner he caught his brother talking to George outside, right before curfew came and they had to go inside.

Will nervously approached them.

“Horace…” he said. This time, Horace’s head swung in his direction, and his spirits lifted. “Hey, Horace,” said Will, “can I please-”

“Go away.”

The words were like a slap across the face. It slapped Will’s smile right off his lips. Then he exploded.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?!” Will exclaimed, suddenly. George flinched. “It was my fault, and I was acting scared, and I shouldn’t have let you get caught! But it was a mistake! I didn’t mean to!”

“Sure,” Horace spat. George was more than nervous, and he backed away a few steps to let them hash out whatever they needed to hash out. “Sure, you did.”

“What do you think?”

“I think you were jealous,” Horace said. “I think you knew I wanted to be a knight, and if I’m a knight, that means you’ll have to live on a farm instead.”

Will was taken aback. “That’s ridiculous! I never thought that. I want us to be knights together. The Battlemaster can take two ward kids-”

“So you made me look bad instead so you could have your chance.”

“No!” he said. “That’s not it! I was just… I was scared. I was scared of getting caught, yes, but I never did it because I wanted to hurt you. I know I messed up. I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit.” Horace wasn’t allowed to use that word, and he knew it, but sometimes he did anyway. He wanted to do more, though. He wanted to punch Will for making him trust him. For being his friend and then screwing him over. He wanted to hurt him like he'd been hurt. “You’re a liar.”

“No, I’m not! You’re being an idiot, just stop and think!”

That hit a nerve in Horace, hard. It made him much, much angrier than Will assumed it did. Horace didn’t like being called an idiot. Especially not by someone as smart as Will was.

“I’m not an idiot!” Horace yelled. “Shut up! You’re an idiot!”

“Well you’re being one now!” Will took a deep breath. “Horace, I don’t want to do this.” He walked closer still. “We’re brothers, remember?” He paused, to sniff and then pretend like he wasn’t close to tears. For some reason this made Horace a little bit happier. Will was weaker than he was, now. For such a smart, clever person, way smarter and cleverer than Horace was… he was weak.

Horace stopped for a few seconds to get himself together. Then he said, his gravest words yet, “You’re just angry because you know you’ll never be like your father.”

That was it. That was the moment where Will knew he should’ve hit him. Had he done it, the next eight years of his life might have been different.

That was his second mistake.

But instead, he did the opposite. He froze in place, like Horace had drained him of all his thoughts, all his anger, and all his power, in just that one sentence. Then he fell onto his knees, and collapsed on the ground in hysterical tears.

“No…” he sobbed, “no, I…”

Horace couldn’t stop. “You’re small, you’re weak, and you’re a traitor,” he spat.

Any confidence Will had was falling from him in the form of tears, taken by Horace and never again returned to him.

“And we’re not brothers.”

Will couldn’t speak anymore, and Horace didn’t have to. He walked past where Will was lying, back to the ward, and he realized that on some level he believed what he said. Or he wanted to believe.

Because he was going to be a knight, and not Will. No matter what.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Will had embarrassed him once, so it was time for Horace to return the favor.

When Horace turned his back that night, left Will on the ground, and left George to either comfort Will, or follow Horace in…

He turned his back forever.


	11. Damp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wakes up one morning to find something very important is missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried, is it obvious? Anyway I've been gone for a few decades it feels like but hopefully I’ll be coming back more often. Sorry about the unofficial hiatus.

The melodic drumming of rain had not woken Will up, it was the lightning. Rather, the thunder that rolled like a earthquake and split the ground in two.

Will awoke with a jolt the first time. The next, less suddenly. He stayed awake longer that time, and found it hard to get comfortable.

His bed was cold, but not because of the storm.

Raindrops enhanced the dead silence inside his walls.

The third time, he groaned, turned over, fluffed his pillow, and went back to sleep. He wasn’t nearly awake enough to last until the morning.

Once he put the coldness out of his mind he was able to tune out the storm and drown himself again in sleep.

The storm had blown east when he woke up. Will was badly tempted to pull up the blankets and go to sleep again, but he wouldn’t have slept very well, even if he had given in, knowing that he was ignoring so many responsibilities.

So he got up, dressed, and had a cup of coffee to dry out his damp mind.

The dust dancing in the sun beams next to him was great company, but the room was still empty. Sable was on the rug dozing. The birds were oddly quiet as if anticipating something. In such a big room Will felt suffocated.

He made a note to invite Alyss over for dinner. He showed a hollow smile at the prospect. She rarely refused.

Fearful that it would slip his mind, he got out a pen and paper that minute and wrote her a quick letter. The day felt a little less languid with something to look forward to. Now he had to plan a nice dinner for them. His usual meal wasn’t suitable for a date, and he should clean up the cabin a little… Will had never liked cleaning since his early apprentice days had given it such a bad connotation, but with the proper motivation (like Alyss) he didn’t mind.

He slipped the letter in an envelope and left it on the breakfast table, next to his nearly drained mug. Then suddenly it struck him that one part of his wardrobe that had slipped right out of his head. In fact, it was the most vital part of his outfit.

Damn exhaustion.

On his way to the bedroom he couldn’t resist the yawn that had crept up on him. He understood how that sunlight dust felt now. Floating in the light but ceasing to exist when it left. There, dancing; but never landing.

Not to say that Will always felt this damp and shell-like. Only on certain days.

He opened the closet. Inside on the door was a small hook on which his oakleaf hung.

Hardly looking, he felt the curve of that wooden hook with his fingers-but it was empty. Then again, he had two identical hooks right next to each other. He paused, and went over it again, then finally in impatience, crooked his neck to peer in. It was the right hook. And there was nothing hanging on it.

More frantic, he pinched the other hook. Empty. He was fully awake now. His body snapped to attention like the crack of a whip.

Then the whip went limp. When he had finally determined that there was nothing on those hooks he searched around the bottom of the closet in hopes it had dropped. Again he found nothing.

He mumbled encouragement indiscernibly to himself in his head. Will had a long history of not losing small items. He didn’t get very far into his apprenticeship without having that skill embedded in him.

Okay, okay, I need to keep track of my things.

His second guess was the bedstand. That little which was inside was he ripped out and threw around him.

Will prayed with every item he examined that he would see that familiar old glimmer in the corner of his eye, or the softness of the intertwined strings between his fingers. He wished that it would clatter to the bottom after he removed a book, or he would feel its shape underneath a sheet of paper. He didn’t. Every moment of its absence raised Will’s expectations, but every failed attempt let them fall.

He frantically went through every pile again, throwing useless things aside with shaking hands that could barely handle that task in front of them. Blood was beating so hard in his chest that it left the rest of him cold and lonely.

His whole room was thrown on the floor. A long stream of words that his commandment wouldn’t approve of was growing in his head.

With every moment it was becoming even less likely that he would find it. He had found books his hands hadn’t touched for years. What were the chances of it magically migrating to the bottom of the drawer when he last wore it yesterday? They were very slim, but Will desperately ignored them.

By then he had accepted the truth. He had lost his oakleaf.

There was a knock at the door and Will’s head snapped up so hard his hair bristled over his eyes.

He stood up and took many very brisk steps to the door. He tore it open and greeted the mailboy with a firm, “Hi.”

The boy blinked. “Hi, sir..” He cleared his throat. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Milon.”

The sound of a person’s voice against his ears was loud, and uncomfortable at first. Will whispered whenever he talked to himself. When Milon didn’t whisper, Will physically flinched from the sheer impact of it on his ears.

The boy held out a letter. “This is all today, sir.”

Will snatched it out of the boy’s hand. “Thank you. Great. Have a good- no, wait.” He screeched to a halt as soon as the less anxious part of his mind was yelling at him to hold on just one moment. “Right. I have something, actually, hold on just a second okay?” Will didn’t wait for a response and left for the breakfast table.

Milon noticed the difference in Will from yesterday. It worried the boy. Unlike lots of children in the fief, he wasn’t afraid of Will for any reason but the ones that were rational. Yes, the man could kill him twenty or more different ways without a bow, but if Milon didn’t give him a reason to, why should he?

The ranger had left the door open, and Milon didn’t keep himself from curiously peering in. It was wide open. Obviously Will didn’t mind, and everything inside was normal. “Sir?” he asked. “Are you alright today?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” The ranger said, coming back, “I need this delivered today, got it?”

Milon nodded and dropped the envelope in the right pocket of his bag. “Yes, sir. Really…” Milon paused as long as it took for Will to look at him seriously. He waited until Will was taking his words to heart instead of letting them roll right off. “Are you alright?”

Will waited his own special amount of time until, finally, his wall broke. Maybe it was the feeling of some young boy being innocently concerned about him which reminded him of himself when he was an apprentice. He had the same frame as Will used to with darker skin and hair. But he had the same big brown eyes that wanted to take in the world.

The ranger sighed. “I.. lost something important,” he said shamefully. “And I rarely lose anything. Especially when it’s so valuable to me.”

It was important that Will not tell Milon exactly what it was. If the word got out, it would surely get to Crowley. Or even worse, Halt.

“It’s probably somewhere very obvious that you just haven’t looked in yet,” said Milon. “That’s usually the case with me, and I kick myself later for it. Or I ask my mom, and she always finds it. Somehow. It's like magic.”

“I’ll ask my mom but I don’t think she’ll be much help. Well,” Will hurried to say before his sarcasm set in-Milon’s face twisted trying to figure it out-“you’re right about it being someplace obvious.”

“Thank you.. Ranger.”

“I’d better get on it, then.”

“Um, if you’d like..” Milon began, and then stopped and reworked his sentence. “I don’t mean to impose but it could go a lot faster with two people. I’m willing to offer my help. Sir.”

And then Will surprised himself. More than likely, the boy had been expecting him to turn it down and was merely being polite by asking. Will certainly didn't need any more trouble on his hands than he had already.

Will knew this, and yet he still shocked both of them when he nodded, and invited him inside.

What is wrong with me today, he scolded himself.

He told Milon he was looking for a necklace and left it at that. He told him not to open any folders, or books, or anything with the word “secret” or “Ranger Corps” written on it. In fact, no folders or envelopes at all. Will looked over every once in awhile to check.

Sable woke up, but after greeting Milon, she took to Will’s room so that she could sleep longer.

I always kept it in the same spot… I made extra sure of that because I knew that I could easily lose track of it.

He set the mailboy to work in the living room while Will finished his bedroom. Then he made his way back into the main room. He turned over the cushions. He looked under the rug. He looked in stupid places. No matter how illogical they were they still held a sliver of hope.

A sliver of hope is what he kept finding. Then it was gone. His hands moved quicker as if that would solve it. Quicker and quicker, he moved until he forgot to breathe.

God, where is it… Where… I brought it home last night, didn’t I? Surely. Surely I didn’t leave it somewhere outside the cabin.

“Sir?” Milon finally said to the prostrated ranger. Only three minutes had passed. They had gone through everything very quickly. Not many of a ranger’s material possessions were frivolous enough to be left in the living room. “It might turn up later,” said the mailboy, genuinely concerned.

It’s not gone. There’s no way it could be. No, no, no. It’s only the first day I’ve started looking. No… 

“I need it today,” Will said under his breath. “Not for any reason. It just has to be here.”

That’s when Milon’s suspicions were confirmed. He knew which necklace this was.

It was time for Will’s shame to catch up with him. He forced the damp wetness pricking at his eyes away, and stood up. “Thanks for your help, Milon,” he said. “Really.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.”

“I’ll find it some time I’m sure.” Will faked apathy towards the whole situation in hopes it would convince Milon to forget what he saw earlier-when Will so carelessly let his guard down. He had never been in this kind of situation before.

He had seen people he cared about die before, but it wasn’t quite like that. It wasn’t his friend that had died when he lost his oakleaf, it was himself. It was years of himself, and every scent and feeling of happiness and fear that had collected on the way; every sunlight dust speck he’d seen, and every breath that had spread through his chest.

The indescribable feeling of being “here” for years.

It was losing his life.

As Will was dismissing Milon, his eyes caught something new, as his head turned to the genuine young boy. In fact, it was the same fireplace he had seen every day for years. In a new light, even the most ordinary things could look so remarkably new .

“Don’t look,” said Will, making his way to the fireplace. He had to watch his step. He jumped in the empty spots between debris like a child avoiding the patches of floor that they vividly imagined was lava.

“What?” asked Milon, but he obeyed and turned away.

“It’s a secret place I can’t show you. You’ve helped so much already, anyway, I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you have things to do.” Will crouched a few feet from the fireplace and went no further.

Milon replied, “Okay… You’re welcome, I’m glad to be of help. But you’re not keeping me from any work. If I’m being honest, sir, I’d rather be here.”

Will chuckled. There he was again, in apprentice form. Eager to help, and refreshingly honest; curious, but polite if the other person was two steps from being a stranger. At least he was finding pieces of himself now.

The mailboy only got a distracted answer in reply. “Go, though. You have work to do and so do I.”

“Okay.” Milon patted his side and found his thigh, not what he had intended. He circled to the door, tried to avoid looking at Will; but his bag was on the couch, so he had no choice but to get a quick glimpse of him. To Milon’s relief, Will hadn’t revealed any part of his secret hiding place yet. It excited Milon to know that rangers had those places.

As he picked up his bag by the strong part of the strap, not the part that was half eaten away, and swung it over his shoulder, he did a double take at Will. Something had caught his eye, and he was right. Milon had to squint. Then he saw a silver chain around the back of Will’s neck. It was nearly hidden by his hair that was almost shoulder length now-it surprised Will too-but clearly a necklace chain.

“Ranger,” Milon exclaimed, “you’re wearing it.”

“Huh?” Will turned and looked at him. “I’m wearing it?”

“Yes!” Milon had to work not to laugh, but he was already pretty tired. “There’s the chain around your neck.”

Will pulled the pendant of his silver oakleaf out of his shirt. It was warm from being against his heart. He reached down again and felt nothing, then sighed.

Milon grinned.

“It’s not this.”

His grin fell. “Huh?”

Will let his oakleaf fall against his shirt, and looked up at the mailboy through pieces of hair. He had to remind Alyss to cut them tonight. “It’s not this one… It’s my bronze oakleaf.”

Milon was wordless.

Will turned away and said, “Some rangers give theirs back… but I convinced Ranger Crowley to let me keep mine. No, if I lost my silver oakleaf that’s not a big deal.”

“Really?”

“Well, the commandant would be upset for sure. And they’d never let me hear the end of it.” Will chuckled. “But they could make me a new one. My bronze oakleaf….”

He was quiet again.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay. I'm sure I'm being overdramatic.”

“It's a bad situation, it's not surprising that you're worried. Anyway, I'll let you get back to it.”

Will’s goodbye got pushed to the back of his mind. Milon had swiveled his head back and his eyes had graced the bookshelf bordering the door. And on the top of the bookshelf, one hand taller than Milon, was something that glimmered.

Milon just reached up and felt the shape of it with his fingers. Then smiled again. Will was facing the other way and waiting for him to leave.

Milon moved the object to the edge of the shelf. He didn’t appreciate slamming doors unless it was his mother he was upset at, or he wanted to prove a point to his brothers.. So he knew how. He slammed the door to the ranger’s cabin, and then ran away as fast as he could without tripping over his own feet.

Inside, Will had noticed how hard that door had been shut, and he was ready to go back out there and tell Milon to be careful, because wood is far from indestructible. But something clattered to the ground, and Will wasn’t too busy to notice it.

And for some reason he didn’t move.

Not for a minute.

He didn’t look in the secret hiding spot, either. Either of those places could hold his oakleaf, or neither of them could. Until he looked, anything was possible. And he was neither happy, nor disappointed. He was a balance: hopeful.

There were two slivers of hope left, and he sat there for more time than he bothered to count; unbreathing. Because maybe it wasn't in either of those places.

But Will was a naturally curious person, and for better or for worse, he always had to look.

He got up and walked at his normal pace to the front door. He lowered himself onto one knee. Actually, he didn’t see anything, not until his sharply trained eyes made out the thin shape of something lying there by his foot. It blended in so well with the wood it was difficult to spot; it was the same color. Six years of his life.

Will chuckled and turned it over in his hand.

There was no hallelujah, no cry of joy. He simply slipped the strings around his neck and tucked the oakleaf under his shirt.

Then the day went on.


	12. Things Unable To Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is taking his daughter for a swim and Alyss is worried, for very good reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taken from an anonymous prompt on my Tumblr. Please leave kudos and review :)

Alyss wished she could be out there, but she just didn't have the time. Even though it made her jealous, she pulled up Will's table to the window, where she could write with most her body in the wall's shade. It was the early afternoon, though, so as long as she didn't nail boards over the window, even if the curtain was pulled across, the main room of Will's cabin was flooded with light.

But sitting by the window gave her a clear glimpse of the outside and didn't do much to focus her on the work that needed to be done. Every minute she'd hear the faint high-pitched laughter of her daughter and sometimes a lower, amused chuckle from Will. It tore her from her thoughts, but she always smiled.

\--------------

 

Outside, just of Alyss’s sight, Adonia was sitting on the river bank. Her feet just met the surface and she giggled as the river weaved in between them. She swung her feet back and forth, kicking water up, not quite deep enough to be taken along with it. Will had checked.

Her father leaned on the river bank in a spot where there wasn’t too much mud. With eyebrows raised at Addy, he said, “Want back in yet?”

In a princess-like gesture, Addy turned her head away and turned up her nose. “Not if you drop me again,” she replied.

“I didn’t drop you.”

“Hm.”

He had to inch a little closer to Addy so that they could hear each other over the crashing of water. “I had two arms around you and one of them slipped for a moment," he excused. "Half a moment.”

Addy considered this for a while. When she looked back at Will he was holding out his arms in an invitation to her. His head was tipped to the side in a question.

She let a long pause stretch between them..

"Hm,” she grinned.

Will chuckled. “You’re getting more like your mother every day.”

Addy groaned and swatted away at a few flies that were enjoying the summer heat as much as her. Unlike her, they couldn’t be invited by their father when they were complaining about the heat to take a swim. “You always say that,” she sighed.

“But it’s true! And it’s a compliment.”

“My hair isn’t the same as hers.” Addy took a strand of her dark brown hair, stringy and wet, and showed it to her father.

Will wiped away a few droplets of water that weren’t falling off his cheek. “It’s long like hers, and it’s dark like mine.” He struggled through the water to push himself up out of the river and sit next to her.

“Then, I’m a combination of you and mam?”

“Yes.” Will grinned, delighted. Surely his young, four-year-old daughter couldn’t understand how mature she was for her age. She was much smaller than most of the other kids- exhibiting some of Will’s traits as a young kid- but she was two heads over her classmates in intelligence and everything else. “You’re so smart.”

Addy smiled because she knew this. Her big cheeks nearly covered her eyes when she was being smug and smiling with her mouth closed. “Who’d I get that from?” she asked.

“Both of us.” Will slicked her hair back from her forehead and then kissed it. “But mostly your mother.”

Then he hopped off the bank into the river. He regained his footing and announced, in a loud, superficial voice that Addy loved, “Now I’m getting lonely out here by myself! So-” he picked Addy up and hoisted her effortlessly into the air, into his arms, “you’re coming back in here with me!”

Addy squealed and cried, “Noo, go be lonely!”

“I won’t!” Will laughed and turned her around. Addy’s back faced him now and he supported her with one arm. The other held her tightly to his chest. “And no, I won’t drop you! If I drop you then your mother will flay me for dinner!”

“Right about that,” said the older female voice from nearby.

Alyss was walking forward to them. She'd crossed her arms over her chest, but contradicted herself with a gentle curve of her mouth. “You two having fun?” she asked.

Adonia nodded quickly, stopping when Will tucked her head under his chin.

“Is he teaching you how to swim?” Alyss sat down on the grass. She undid the top button on her blouse to enjoy the droplets of the cool water that would spray in her direction when the current clashed against the bank.

“No, just carrying me around. Come in with us!”

Will agreed with Addy, looking at his wife hopefully.

But Alyss shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t. I’m just taking a short break from my work.”

“What work?” asked Adonia. Will adjusted her to his chest and held his ground when the river tried to push him back.

“Grownup work. Negotiating.”

“Can I help?!”

“I’m afraid they don’t see you as a credible source. See, even though you’d figure it out, they wouldn’t know you well enough to trust you. That’s the problem.”

Addy took a breath and quietly went, “Ohhh,” now understanding. “Okay!”

Alyss smiled and then turned back to Will. Addy was playing with the water and wiping it across her bathing suit to see what it felt like.

As soon as their eyes met, Alyss’s face grew serious. She didn’t have to remind them of their earlier discussion for him to remember. Will turned somber.

When Will had come to her with the idea to take Addy out to the river, Alyss had, to say the very least, voiced her concern. In some ways, she didn’t trust anybody with Addy but herself. In a moment she would jump off a cliff if Will told her to trust him, but Addy was a completely different matter. It would be a struggle. Even now, every time the water grew a little stronger her heart jumped into her throat.

Finally, she gave in when Will rolled his eyes and told her that this wasn’t like throwing Addy off a cliff. It was just an hour or two in the water, with somebody who was more than strong enough to hold her. Alyss’s logic told her that he was right, but being a mother was not about logic.

When she saw how excited Addy was, she gave in. She didn't want to turn into one of those overprotective parents she despised. All this she expressed in the threatening, concerned, succinct look she passed Will when their daughter wasn’t looking.

Will shook his head. “I’m fine,” he mouthed. He tightened his arm around Addy to show her. Addy mumbled something of protest but it died out.

Alyss sighed with her shoulders and earned a smile from the ranger. "You're so cute," he said.

She sighed again and stood up. "Be careful,” she said. “I mean it."

"Gorgeous, I am. You don't have to worry. I can hold onto her, she’s safe with me. Besides, have you seen my muscles?"

Alyss only stared at him, because she'd already sighed once, and she felt like it had lost its meaning by now. She muttered something under her breath and walked away to the nearest tree.

Addy pointed wildly to a shadow under the surface of the water, where the sides of the waves glinted white in the sun as they shimmered past. “Look! There’s a fish!”

“So there is,” Will grinned. They caught the shimmer of orange when the fish nearly swam to the surface. “Want me to catch it?”

Addy looked at him with horror. “No! Let it go!”

The shadow wiggled away quickly following the current.

“I wasn’t going to kill it,” Will told her. “Just catch it for you.”

Addy inhaled deeply in understanding again. “....Oh.”

Will laughed in case he had sounded offended. “I’m not that cruel, Addy.”

“Then, the next one?”

“Of course.. If you can spot it for me.” He kept his daughter tightly against him until he could slide his arm from out under her and use it to support her free side. Then he lifted her high into the air, much higher above the water. Addy exclaimed in surprise, which turned into a childish giggle.

“Will!” Alyss snapped. He turned his head and met to eyes of a very angry wife.

“I told you, don’t worry!” he said. “I’ve got her. Don’t I, Addy? Do you feel safe?”

Addy called to her mother, “Yes! I feel safe! He told you, don’t worry, mam!”

Will swayed her back and forward in the air very slowly to show Alyss how much control he had over her. He couldn’t see her eyes very clearly from that far away, but he could feel her glare as if she were right there stabbing him. It gradually got softer until it was just a worried stare.

She’d been ready to jump up, run over to Will and snatch Addy away from him when she yelled. Now that she had made the decision again to trust Will, she settled down back against the tree trunk. She picked up the open book on her thigh and cast one more glance at Will before ducking her head and returning to it.

Addy was delighted that they could keep playing. After grinning at her father she looked down at just the right time and spotted another wriggling shadow. This one was much bigger. It tried to fight the current.

“Hey! Hey!” she whispered to him just loud enough, pointing to the fish.

Within moments Addy was back down against Will’s chest. “Hold on,” he told her, and trapped her against his chest with one arm and sacrificed the other. Addy clung to his neck but leaned away so he could see her father approaching the fish.

She stared at it with wide eyes. Just seeing its distorted shape, they could tell it was bigger than Addy’s thigh. Perhaps a fourth of her size. But even that big of a fish gave up its fight and let itself be taken along with the current when a burst of water overpowered it.

Addy gasped as Will’s hand shot out like the fire of an arrow, so quickly that if she blinked, she'd have missed it. His hand made contact with something slippery.

Then the burst hit them.

Addy felt it sweep her legs and she knew what was about to happen. A girl with priorities, she forgot the fish. Instead she thrust herself into Will and clung tighter onto his neck, but it was too late. The river caught her off guard and was already pulling her away. Will was strong, but the splash had drenched his bare arm and hand. And like the fish in his right hand, she slipped right out.

As Will turned around in heart-stopping alarm he could see Adonia’s head floating away and disappearing, then reappearing above the surface.

He didn't hear himself when he screamed out her name. Alyss’s similar cry only registered in vague noise. The only things in his head were the pounding blood in his ears, the waves crashing like metal against metal, and Addy’s scream that was interrupted every time she was swept under the water.

He ran some feet and then dove in. His thighs burned as he strove to move faster than the current.

Will kept Addy in the center of his vision as he got closer, and closer, then pushed off the bottom wrong and slipped face-first into the river.

Adonia flailed her arms wildly to the bank but her feet weren't even halfway to the ground, so she was powerless. Too much water had gone in her mouth and she had to stop screaming. Her mind screamed instead. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, then all was black.

The surface closed around the crown of her head. Above her, she could still hear the deafening wail of the river.

Her hand was all that was out of the water. Then something solid closed around her wrist. A power much stronger than the river yanked her forward and then cradled her to it.

Her head emerged from the water, but her eyes were still shut, and she couldn’t see a thing. The solid, wall-like figure swam with her helplessly for some time more that she couldn't measure. It passed in the blink of an eye for her. The next thing she knew, she was going up.

Will pushed Addy’s small, limp body onto the bank of the river. But he took so much time that he couldn't join her. Before the river stole him away again, he got a glimpse of her safely on the ground, and breathing hard- but breathing nevertheless.

Some yards away he spotted a rock off to the side, and with much effort, he lifted his fifty-pound arm out of the water with a flick and caught it. He jerked back some more. His skin tore at the palm, and blood trickled down his wrist, although he could not feel this.

Will was burning now. He used his last bit of energy to hold onto the rock and ignore the pain. With even more energy, he was able to grip it with both hands, and then veer off to the side of the river.

His last great effort was pushing himself out and rolling onto the bank on his back. He coughed water out of his mouth. There, he looked like a man revived from the dead as he heaved life back into his lungs.

His head fell over. Cheek met wet grass. Across the bank, he saw blurry Alyss cradling blurry Adonia in her arms, who was nodding, and blinking, and shaking as he buried her face in Alyss’s neck.

Will ached as he rolled onto his stomach and began to crawl over to them.

Alyss asked her, “Are you bleeding? Did you hit anything underwater?”

“No, n-no… I didn't…”

“I'm going to get you back home, okay? You'll be warm in just a minute, okay? Addy?”

Addy sniffed; even that was shaky. “O-okay. Okay.”

“Addy…” Will whispered through shivers and breathless moments. He attracted Alyss’s eyes as well as his daughters. “Addy, o-oh my god, I'm so sorry.” Like a dying man begging for water, he stretched his arm and reached for Addy’s forehead-

Then Alyss took her hand up and slapped him across the cheek.

The action paralyzed Will as soon as her hand made contact with him. The sound echoed in his head moments after it happened.

Without another glance, or word, or moment, Alyss stood up carrying their daughter in her arms like a newborn baby. She whispered sweet things to Adonia as she took her away in the direction of the cabin. Any faster and she would have been running for her life.

Will lay there and just watched them go until they were out of sight.

\--------------

Adonia’s cough only lasted so long. She was put in bed under several more blankets than she usually slept with.

Alyss whipped up some soup for her and permitted Will to refill her daughter’s water glass only when Alyss was absolutely too busy to do it.

They hadn't made eye contact since she slapped him, but Alyss still said yes when Will asked if he could see Addy. There was a trace of compassion in her eyes when she told him. Will saw it from the side, just before Alyss turned her body away.

Had Addy’s cough worsened, they would have had all the more reason to worry. The fear of illness gripped their hearts throughout the rest of the day, no matter what they did. But as the afternoon left, and the evening went on, the only damage to Addy looked to be emotional. Even that was lessening. Will supposed he should be happy.

“Is mam okay?” Addy whispered to her father.

Will was on his knees leaning on the bed. He could only see her thick upper lip, and the rest was buried under a mountain of blankets. They rose and fell evenly now.

“Yes,” he answered. “She's fine, she's just worried sick about you.”

“I don't want that.”

Will looked down at the top bedsheet like he was looking into his reflection, and contemplated what he saw. “She can't help it,” he said. “She loves you so, so much. I think I understand it, but sometimes, I'm not sure if I do. Not that I don't love you, Addy…”

Tears pricked at his eyes. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

“Da…”

“I'm so sorry.” Will drew his arms around his head and buried his forehead in them. He sobbed, “I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay. It's okay.” Addy wanted to say so much, but found to her frustration, she didn't quite have the vocabulary to express it. She whispered over and over again to him that it was okay, while Will sobbed into the covers, unable to express himself in the same way.

Alyss came in the room with Adonia’s soup. Will ducked out of the room after wishing Addy to get better.

\------------------

Hand clenched around a cloth that was dry with blood, with a cheek that was no longer red, Will stood outside Adonia’s door looking in. It was open just a crack, just enough to see her sleeping face.

For the thousandth time, he was overtaken with how much like Alyss she looked. Her eyebrows had the same arch. She could look suspicious or curious depending on how she tilted her head. Her hair was brown, but it had the same wave that rippled through Alyss’s hair when the wind blew through it. It seemed as if Addy’s cheeks blushed the same when she looked at something with fascinated curiosity, as did Alyss’s when Will took her hand and told her again that she was the most stunning person he’d ever seen.

A hand touched Will’s shoulder and without squeezing, rolled over it to his front. Her chin rested on the curve of his neck. Will felt frozen in time, unable to move his eyes from his daughter. Even as Alyss brushed Will’s hair from the bottom of his neck, and touched her lips to that spot, he could not move.

“She’ll be okay,” Alyss whispered.

Will nodded.

Moments passed in silence. Will watched Adonia. Alyss watched Will.

“I'm going to call the doctor to come up here tomorrow,” Will said. “You can never be too sure.”

“Thank you.”

“Alyss…”

Alyss hushed him and felt down Will’s arm. She followed it like a maze until she could take his bandaged hand, and break him out of the frozen moment he was trapped in.

“I know,” she murmured. “I know.”

“I didn't mean…”

Alyss pressed her lips to his neck again.

“I should have listened.”

She repeated the action again, and again, gradually making her way around to his cheek, and persuading the turn of his head over to hers.

“I should have….”

The light from the other room came at Alyss’s back. He turned around and stepped into her shadow, as it seemed he was turning his head at just the right angle to immediately meet her eyes.

Before their mouths met, their bodies were kissing. Then Alyss leaned. Her nose brushed against his on her way to connect their lips in the middle.

And the world went absolutely quiet. Even the quiet parts of Will’s mind, he had not been using. They stopped and turned their ears to listen.

When Alyss broke away she was cupping his cheek. She squeezed his hand gently, in the right place, where it didn't hurt. Against Will’s lips fell the words, “It’s okay.”

A break in his defenses told Will that perhaps she was right.


End file.
